Take What You Want
by purelyamuse
Summary: Based on January 2012 witfit prompts. Though Bella's known Edward for years, they've just started hanging out. His crass, smelly boy self is not appealing, but his looks and charm are. How will she deal with her feelings for the gross, flirty boy?
1. Chapter 1 Scramble

**A/N: **After much internal debate (and lots of pressure from my Twitter peeps), I decided to just do it. "I'm going to write a witfit," I told myself. And so I am. For those of you who don't know, a witfit is a story based on daily prompts. So as a writer you fly by the seat of your pants which is terrifying, to say the least.

So please be gentle. Please ignore my mistakes. There will be many as I have not "employed" a beta. And, please, do not compare this story to my others. I am fully aware that this story is light and silly and not meant to change the world. It's meant to incite giggling and maybe a bit of gagging. I'm going in blind. There's no plot, no structure, no back story. It's happening as it happens. I get a prompt in the morning, write something involving the prompt when I can, and then post it on the same day if possible. It's that simple.

Here's hoping this writing experiment pays off . . .

**January 2012 Witfit**

**Take What You Want**

**Chapter 1**

**Prompt: Scramble, New Year's Resolutions**

**Playlist: I'm Sexy and I Know It by LMFAO**

"Oh, no. Can't I get a break?" I say to Alice as we enter our French class. It's the second semester, and we're almost done. Out of here. Until we come back for senior year, that is.

She peers around me, laughing as Edward Cullen is waving us over. _The _Edward Cullen. The one who simultaneously annoys and annoys the hell out of me. For two different reasons. The second of which I can't quite put my finger on.

For some odd reason, he and Emmett, Alice's brother, started hanging out over the break. Then Jasper, Alice's boyfriend joined in too. Being Alice's best friend, I ended up seeing a lot of Edward over the holidays, much to my dismay.

The guy is loud, crass, lacks good hygiene, and is an all-around loser. He doesn't do any extra-curriculars. He doesn't get good grades as far as I can tell. In fact, I can't think of anything about him that I really like. Except . . . except for his insanely good looks and ability to make the insides of my stomach scramble by flirting with me. Which I do not like, for the record.

"Go sit by him." Alice prods me in the back like I'm cattle. Nice.

"You go sit by him."

"I already have a boyfriend."

"I don't even want a . . . hey, that's—Alice . . ."

Alice sits next to Jasper, and he leans over, desk in tow for a kiss.

"Hey, sweet cheeks," Edward says, patting the seat across from him.

Oh, no. Not with the nicknames again. He's ridiculous; has a name for everyone. I seem to be the lucky one, though, because they just keep coming.

His grin is wide, his auburn hair wild, and I want to hit him because I don't want him. I don't. Not at all. Not even a little bit.

"Thanks," I say, then give him a tight smile. I sit and pull out my binder, getting ready to take notes. I know it's only the first day back, but Ms. Benson is a strict, good teacher. "Why are you here?"

"Transferred from Pierre's class. He's a schmuck. Was failing me for . . . I mean, how could I have known that when I wrote a love note – which was the assignment, you know – I was saying dirty things? I was writing it in French. It's his fault, I'm telling you. Lousy teacher. He doesn't even know French, if you ask me. So here I am. And things are looking up." His eyes wander my body, and I cringe, probably making a face. Oh, well.

"Mmm." I get my pencil out and place a blank sheet of paper in front of me, ready for the lecture to begin.

Edward, on the other hand, leans back in his seat, hands clasped behind his neck, staring at the ceiling tiles. He's so annoying. "How's your weekend?" He says, eyes still trained upward.

"You know how it was, nerd, you were there."

"That's right_ I_ was there. You hear that, world, I was there with Bella Swan in the backseat of a car—"

"Shh!"

He laughs, but I'm fuming. Sure what he said was true: we were alone in the backseat of a car, but only because Alice had to take a leak. She forced Jasper to go with her to keep her safe. So we sat and talked while we waited. Which really means he talked while I tried to look at anything besides Edward. He was a bit too cute in the dark. In the back of a car. With his hair all mussed up from the wind. And his cheeks all pink from the cold. Yeah, too cute.

But the more I get to know him, or rather the more he hangs around me and my friends, the more difficult it is to ignore him and his attractiveness. Plus, he is just so persistent. And annoying. Did I mention annoying?

"You know you want everyone to know about our late night rendezvous."

"There was no late night rendezvous."

"Just keep telling yourself that, princess." He leans in and peers over my desk. His head's right next to my boob. If he turns, he'll smoosh it with his nose. "It's the first day back, why are you all . . ." He sweeps his hand across my desk, and my paper goes fluttering to the floor.

In my attempt to catch it, I knock my pencil as well. Groaning, I lean over to get them, but Edward beats me to it. "Got it," he says, but he stays down low for a peculiarly long amount of time.

"Can I have my stuff now?" I huff.

"Mmm," he says, "That depends . . . can I?"

I look over the side of my desk, and Edward is scanning my legs. Damn this skirt Alice convinced me to buy.

"Uh, no." I say tucking my legs back and crossing them at the ankles as far away from Edward as possible.

"It's a shame. They're nice legs, but at least I can look."

"No, you can't."

"See . . . here in America . . . it's a free country. I can do what I want. And if I want to look at nice legs, I will. Speaking of . . ."

Ms. Benson enters the classroom, her pencil skirt highlighting her shapely figure and nice calves. "Bounjour. Ca'va?"

"Tres bien," Edward says in response, though he's staring right at me.

Over winter break, Alice and I sat with our diaries and outlined our new year's resolutions. I listed things like eat less chocolate, watch less stupid TV, and study more while Alice focused on her relationship with Jasper. At the time, I didn't think anything of it. That's her life. Jasper, I mean. My life is school and family. There was no reason to write anything about anyone else, but now, now I think I may have to add something to my list.

_Stop noticing Edward Cullen noticing me. _

_And stop liking it when he does. _

**A/N****: **I am not making any promises when it comes to review replies. But please know that I adore and appreciate each and every one. So thank you.

Special thanks to Jenndema and Roglows (Rochelle Allison) for convincing me that witfits are not the devil. I'm having fun, so thanks, girls.


	2. Chapter 2 Desk

**Take What You Want**

**Chapter 2**

**Word Prompt: Desk**

**Playlist: Mambo Number Five by Lou Bega**

**What's My Age Again by Blink 182**

So far the month of January does not bode well in terms of me sticking to my new year's resolutions regarding Edward. For one, him sitting next to me in French does not help. He's always staring. Never embarrassed even when I call him out on it, which I do. Often. And he just smiles and shrugs. Smug bastard. Second, it also turns out that we have Entrepreneurship together. And guess where he sat when he entered the room on day one and saw me? Right next to me. Joy. So basically points one and two are the same: he's too close. How can I not notice him noticing me? It's impossible.

Having Entrepreneurship with Edward is awful. We sit at a table, so he's always just _right there_. On the days he doesn't shower it's . . . well, gross. And on the days he does shower it's . . . um, not gross. Not at all. But still uncomfortable. I can't win with this guy. Not that I want to. Win, that is.

As I think about not winning in regards to Edward, whatever that means, Edward bumps my hand with his elbow. He does it all the time. "What?" I whisper, irritation set in my facial features.

"What are you trying to win?" He nods to my worksheet where I've absently written _win_ ten times over in the margin interspersed with hearts and flowers.

"Um, just a debate in my honors English class."

"Uh huh. Are you always so girly and gung-ho about winning these _debates_?" Edward leans over my worksheet invading my space, his arm on top of the paper. And, oh my, he smells good today. His hair looks all soft and touchable. I pull my hands off the desk and tuck them under my thighs so I don't touch him. I will not touch him.

"I'm passionate."

"Mmm, I'll bet." He turns his head toward me, just beneath my chest, and his lips twitch into a lazy smile. I roll my eyes as he closes his and naps on our table during the boring lecture.

**-TWYW-**

"I can't take it anymore. He's in two of my classes. Two! And with him hanging around on the weekends . . . I just . . . he's driving me crazy."

Alice leans against her locker and rifles through her purse.

"Well, I think he's cute," Jessica says, crossing her arms, pushing up her cleavage.

"He's like . . . this . . . bumbling, smelly, squirrelly, shady—"

"Cute, little puppy dog," Jessica finishes, then adds, "Only with muscles." I frown, and Alice laces her arm through mine.

"You'll survive it, I promise. Oh, hey, so let's go roller-skating this weekend." Alice always plans our Saturdays. Sometimes I like it, and sometimes I don't. This idea would be a don't.

I groan while Jessica squeals, "I'm in!"

Jessica . . . she's just as annoying as Edward. She had a project with Alice in English, and now she thinks we're all friends. Truth is, Alice is too nice to say anything, so Jessica keeps following us around. I miss the days when it was just me, Alice, Jasper, Emmett and his latest girl. I'd give anything to be a fifth wheel again over this new group dynamic.

"Of course you're in! You're so in, Jess." Edward comes out of nowhere, grabs Jessica by the waist and lifts her up, running out of the hallway with her like a caveman.

"Shoot me now," I say in a bored tone.

"Oh, but then who would I hang out with that I actually like?"

"You have to tell her. I get Edward, I do. He's friends with Emmett and Jasper, but Jessica? Jessica, who wore a push up bra in the eighth grade! It's just wrong."

"Well, _that_ was wrong. And so is her outfit. I think I just saw some panty when Edward carried her out of here."

"He's so gross."

"I know it."

"Why do these girls like him so much?" I wonder aloud but know the answer.

"You mean besides . . ."

"Yes, besides the cuteness."

"He's fun, I guess."

"I guess," I say, picking at my nails.

"He keeps things interesting."

"That's for sure. I never know if he's gonna stink or not when he shows up to class. But, oh my word, did I tell you?" My voice rises in excitement. "He finally cut his fingernails."

"Oh, that's great. I know how much that grossed you out. And speaking of gross fingernails . . ." Alice pulls my fingers away from my mouth where I had been chewing on them.

"Shoot, I know. I'm trying. It's a terrible habit."

"It's not so bad. There are worse habits." She purses her lips and shakes her head before we start walking to our next class together.

"Tell me about it. Like, did you know Edward doesn't eat breakfast? Then, get this . . . he buys those cookies from home-ec – the ones they sell for the cheerleaders – and he eats them in French. Like, for his morning nourishment. I've never met anyone so dumb."

"Ooh, those cookies are so good. When I pass that hall I long for them. How can you stand it watching him eat that cookie in front of you all melty chocolate on his lips and then the finger licking?"

"It's rough," I say, remembering the last time he did just that. Edward with his thumb in his mouth looking at me was all kinds of arousing.

Not five minutes later I find myself watching Edward in his breakfast-cookie-eating bliss. It's pure torture. He leans toward my desk holding his thumb out to me, saying, "You want?"

Man, do I want.

But I do not partake.

"No, thank you."

"You sure?" He lifts another piece of cookie to his mouth, his finger dragging across his lips as he does so. His thumb, once again, covered in chocolate is coming toward me. I shake my head. He takes it as a no and shrugs, when really I'm shaking my head to clear it. Because I'm super close to pulling his finger in my mouth. And that would do no one any bit of good.

I gnaw on my pen and watch him for the next few minutes while he finishes his damn cookie, teasing me.

Ms. Benson finishes her spiel on irregular verbs, and then we have time to work on our assignment. Edward always takes this to mean it's time to push our desks together and talk. He is such a talker. And the hugest flirt. I don't know how that happened either.

Edward and I met in junior high in seventh grade. We had homeroom together. I remember him being this shy, quiet kid, but now . . . he is such an extrovert and has no filter. He just blurts out the craziest things anytime he feels like it. So strange.

I keep my head down and work through the conjugations while Edward taps his pencil and hums. I'm not feeling up to talking with him today. Not after that cookie seduction.

Edward doesn't push me, but he does a lot of looking. And by looking, I mean checking me out. At one point, he even leans back in his desk to get a better view. At least, I think that's what he's doing.

Ms. Benson pops by us and taps Edward's shoulder. He pouts and puts the legs of his chair back down. She hands him his pencil, saying, "Ecoutes."

Edward gets to work, and then I get to watch _him_. I'm ashamed though because what I should really do is move my desk back and ignore him. Something in me just can't. I'm a mess.

Edward pulls out a fresh piece of paper and starts writing furiously. What is he doing? I can't contain my curiosity so I ask.

"Wouldn't you like to know, miss bliss?"

"Fine, don't tell me." I push back, moving my desk with me, but he grabs a hold of it and drags me toward him.

"I'm listing. _Things_."

"What kinds of things?"

He swivels his paper around and pushes it toward me. It's a list of names – girls' names. Some familiar, some not. I raise my eyebrow and hand it back to him.

"That's disgusting."

"You don't even know what it is."

"I have a pretty good idea."

"I think you have a pretty dirty mind then. No worries. I can work with that. Hmm, let's see . . ." Edward draws the paper close and adds something . . . someone.

The bell rings, and he gathers his stuff, leaving his paper behind. Like a fool I pick it up. And scan it. At the bottom in bold, capital letters is _Bella Swan?_.

I run into the hall, ready to throw it at him. He's just so . . . ew! As soon as I get there my temper flares up even more as he's chatting up some sophomore, his hand on her hip. She's giggling and fawning all over him. I storm over to him and push him into the locker.

"Hell, yes!" he shouts. "Now?"

"No, not now! Not ever!" I slam the paper into his chest and walk away, throwing open the heavy doors to the main walkway.

"I'll see you at Skateland!" he calls, laughter following. "Wear something sexy!"

**A/N: **In case you were wondering, and it's not clear enough, these prompts will all be used to create one story line**.**


	3. Chapter 3 Sizzle, Fizzle, Drizzle

**A/N: **A character uses derogatory terms in this chapter for homosexuality. I hereby blame the character. They're dumb, not me. ;)

**Take What You Want**

**Chapter 3**

**Word Prompts: Sizzle, fizzle, drizzle**

**Playlist: Girlfriend by Avril Lavigne**

**Stupid Girls by Pink**

I'm tying my shoes, cradling my phone against my ear when Alice says, "Okay, don't hate me."

I really loathe when Alice begins conversations like this.

"What did you do?"

"I may have done something stupid."

"Spit it out, Alice, I need to get out of here already." I walk through my house gathering keys, my Chapstick, etc and throw them into my purse.

"ItoldEdwardwhereyoulive."

"You. Did. What?" I drop onto my couch, curling my legs up. The boy makes me go fetal. Not good.

"He was trying to get a ride, and I didn't want him tagging along with us, so I may have mentioned where you live."

"Great, so not only do I have to pick up Jessica, but now Edward's . . . what? Just going to show up at my house."

"It sounded like it, yeah. His mom's going to drop him off. I'm so sorry, and I'll make it up to you, I promise. In fact, I already have an idea."

A loud banging gets me moving off the couch. I open the door to Edward, kneeling with a ring in his hand. He's singing the bridal march.

"You owe me big. So big." I hang up without any proper goodbye and glare at Edward. It's drizzling and ucky outside, so I just want to get straight to my car. I simply walk around him and use my key fob to open my mother's sedan.

"So I guess that's a no. You didn't like the ring, huh? My mom will be so disappointed. She helped me pick it out. I thought, you know, maybe you'd wanna get married first before agreeing to be on my list."

"You and your list can suck it."

"Ooh, I love it when you talk dirty." Edward places his ring on his pinky and twirls it around once.

I've stared at that ring so many times I could draw it from memory. The bold E sits atop a black circle on a sterling silver band. It's quite masculine. I actually like the damn thing, but I don't respond. I get in, start the car, and we head to Jessica's.

Edward asks where we're going, and I tell him. "Oh, I thought it was like a double date. Won't she feel left out?"

"It's not—what in the—"

"You are so cute all riled up." He tugs on my hair, and I snap at his hand with my teeth. "Can you feel that?" His tone is excited, fake, bubbly. I should hate it, but I don't. It's cute, so I retaliate.

"Yeah. The repulsion in the air. The bile that's rising from my belly. It's so awesome."

"Pshh, no! That sizzle between us?"

"Sizzle this." I flip him the bird, and he laughs raucously.

"Why are we getting Jessica again? She's annoying, by the way."

I shake my head at the boldness of his words even though I agree with him. "She needs a ride, so I, um, I'm doing it."

"Alice is making you do it." He knows our dynamic so well already even though he's only been with the group for a short while.

"Whatever," I say, not wanting to admit that I am a bit of a pushover. In some areas, anyway. I know I want Jessica to disappear, but I can't tell her to leave us alone anymore than Alice can. We're pathetic.

"You don't like her, do you?"

"She's okay."

"You're such a liar!" he shouts. "I see the way you look at her. All glare-girl-like and sullen."

"Hmm, I thought I only saved those looks for you."

"No, you save the hot ones for me."

"You got me, Edward, I'm falling for you."

"It's only a matter of time." He leans back in his seat, hands grasping the headrest behind him, showing off an inch or two of his underwear. I can't help myself and get caught staring.

"You checking out the goods, sweetness?"

"No, just wondering what that smell is. When was the last time you did your laundry?" I make a great show of sniffing near him. Big mistake. Huge. Boy's wearing cologne and is freshly showered. Oh, no.

"You know . . . I have a sure fire way of getting rid of her, if you want."

"What are you talking about?" I make a turn; we're just a block away from her home now.

"Girls can't hang out around their ex-boyfriends. It's like a commandment anyone with two X chromosomes follows."

"So, you'll . . . what? Date and dump to get rid of her?"

"Sure, for you. To show you how much you mean to me." He pulls my hand from the stick shift and places it on his heart, running his thumb over my knuckles. I catch myself enjoying it and rub my hand over his chest, like I'm wiping it off.

"Is that a yes?" he asks, leaning toward me, smelling like yummy Edward and not at all like stinky Edward.

"What? No! That's mean."

He shrugs and spends the rest of the short drive peering out the window.

When we arrive at her home, Edward runs to her door, shouting her name like he's Romeo or something. She comes out giggling, and giggles even more when he pushes her into the backseat, swatting her butt, and joining her there. Perfect, just perfect.

**-TWYW-**

Alice came through on that 'I Owe You'. She got Emmett to call up Mike Newton, who just showed up five minutes ago. Lucky for me I've just finished my hotdog with Alice, so now I'm skating with him around the rink.

His boyish, all-American good looks appeal to me, as does his status as the Senior Class President. He has plans, he's smart, and he's going somewhere in life. And . . . he's single, and I'm single . . . so . . . here's hoping.

We round the corner, smiling at one another, making small talk. In front of me, Edward and Jessica skate. He's behind her, hands on her hips, probably rubbing up against her or some nonsense. So disrespectful. But they look happy. So much so, that I can't tell if Edward was lying about not liking her. If it's true, he's a good actor. A great actor.

Mike's telling me about the up and coming school dance and how the administration is trying to cut out the DJ in order to save some money.

"It's not like it costs that much, but I guess if we had to we could just gather everyone's playlists and hook up an iPod to a massive speaker. I don't know how it will work out. Should be fun no matter what though. Are you going?"

"I don't know. I haven't been asked."

"Well, good." He smiles, spins himself around to skate backward, showing off his athletic abilities. He coaxes me to do the same. Against my better judgment, I roll to the side attempting to follow in the wake of his skates. But instead, I crash land, tripping over my feet.

He skids to a stop and skates toward me. At least, I think it's him. I can't be sure as one of my contacts went flying. My eyesight's not that bad, but with the strobe light and disco ball things are hazy.

A whistle screeches, and then there's lots of shouting. I'm sitting on my duff, hands flailing on the slick ground, searching for my contact to no avail.

"What the hell is your problem, asshole!"

That voice, I know. _Edward_.

He's behind me, tugging me up by my armpits and grazing the sides of my breasts in the process. "You okay?" His voice is kind, concerned. And . . . genuine? Hmm. I can't respond as I'm trying to figure this out. What's going on with Edward? "You better stay there, you big prick! Leaving her out here like an idiot. Nice. Real classy."

I squint my eyes, scanning the area with no luck. My contact is nowhere to be found.

Edward comes around to the front, hands on my waist to steady me. "What are you doing?" He squints, too, mimicking me. It makes me laugh. He looks like such a dork.

"Contact," I say, closing my right eye. He does the same thing, making me giggle again.

"Oh, well, I don't think you'll find it. People are whizzing by you like crazy. I'm sure it's long gone. Let's get you outta here before you become Swan road kill." He chuckles at his joke, and I give him a quiet thanks.

Edward sets me down on a bench where he promptly undoes my laces, pulling my skates from my feet.

"Bella . . ." Mike's voice is tentative.

"I told you to stay away from her, jockstrap!"

"Edward, it's fine."

"It's not fine. This loser listened to that wimpy skating guard instead of coming to help you. What kind of a lame-o does that?"

"Will you just . . ." I brush my hand toward him as though shooing him like a pesky fly.

Edward raises his hands in surrender and leaves me with Mike.

He sits beside me and sighs. "I'm sorry. That guy blew his whistle, and I just . . . tensed. I follow the rules. Sorry." He drops his head, eyes trained on the horrendous carpet beneath our feet.

"It's okay. I'm sorry he yelled at you. Just ignore Edward; I do."

"I think you're the only girl that does that." We exchange glances and laugh wholeheartedly.

We sit in awkward silence, watching the skaters go by, listening to the terrible nineties music that seems to go hand-in-hand with places like this.

Mike scoots his arm close to mine and slides his fingers between my own. It's the first time a boy's tried this, and my heart is hammering hard in my chest. I don't really know what to do though and worry that my hand is sweaty. What if he notices? He tilts his head, and his lips curve into a smile. I grin back and squint so I can really see how cute he looks while holding my hand and smiling.

He laughs and points to my face. "What's wrong with you?"

"What?" My voice is quiet. This is embarrassing.

"Your eye's all twitchy." Well, that was rude.

"Oh, I lost my contact out there."

"Oh, man, bummer."

"Yep."

Minutes pass, and we don't talk. Fast songs turn to slow songs, and Edward and Jessica skate past us. Edward's skating backward, close to Jessica, his hands on her butt. She's beaming like a moron and following him around wherever he goes. As he loops around again, he makes an obscene gesture at Mike, and I lose it, laughing at the expense of the boy whose hand I'm holding. I'm terrible at this dating stuff. Or whatever this is.

"He's such a jerk."

"I know. I really am sorry he yelled at you."

"Stop apologizing. Look . . . can I . . . take you home?" Mike is very sweet.

Skates screech to a stop at my side, and a body knocks me off balance, making me lose hold of Mike's hand. Dammit.

"She came with me, douche bag. Are you ready? I wanna bail; too many losers are here tonight." Edward's towering over Mike and me, looking threatening, so I simply nod and get my shoes on.

Mike gives me a hug and promises to call me.

Edward waits by my car, arm wrapped around Jessica. Alice and Jasper decided to stay a while longer, so it's just us three heading home. Oh, joy.

The ride is quiet and awkward as I'm playing chauffeur again.

I drop off Jessica first, who gushes about how much fun she had. Edward walks her to her door and runs back to the car hitting the passenger window obnoxiously with his fist.

"Dude, this is my mom's car!" I holler.

"Sorry, I'm just flying high, you know. Post-kiss bliss, if you will."

"You kissed her?" My voice cracks, shocking even me, and Edward laughs.

"Well, yeah. That's what boyfriends and girlfriends do. Ooh, I'll have to add her to my list . . ."

I grimace at the thought of that disgusting list of Edward's and just drive in silence.

"Are you mad at me?" he asks.

"No."

"You're mad about something."

"I just . . . you live like this? All this flirting and touching and kissing and just . . . whatever?"

"It's great. Fun. You should try it. I'll try it with you, if you want."

I hold up my hand, halting Edward's words, his . . . everything. "You just said you were Jessica's boyfriend."

"Yeah, we're not getting married. I only proposed to one girl."

"You didn't even propose," I say, laughing, remembering how stupid he looked on my doorstep holding his pinky ring.

"Well, you wouldn't let me. You were kinda' bitchy, actually. Hurt my feelings." His shoulders slump, and he pouts.

"Aw, poor baby." I run my hand over his head, tousling his hair, and he leans into me, purring like a cat.

"Mmm, I love that. I also like you kinda bitchy, too, for the record."

"There is something seriously wrong with you."

"But you love it."

I shake my head and smile, unable to stop it.

"Someday will you let me hold your hand like Dyke? I mean, Mike."

"You are so . . ."

"Isn't it great?"

I shake my head again and turn up the radio.

"Love this song!" Edward rolls down his window, the frigid air freezing us, while he belts out the lyrics to oncoming cars.

"You're insane."

"It's what love does to a man."

"You're not in love with her; you barely know her."

"I know enough."

"Like her cup size." I mumble.

Edward chokes out a laugh and gasps for air, trying to control himself. "You did not just mention Stanley's boobs, did you?"

"No, never."

"You _so_ did. You're a lesbian, huh? That's why my charms are ineffective on you." He pokes a finger into my bicep, accusing me.

"You're so sick."

"Ooh, yeah, girl on girl action. Do you play Twister? I'd love to see you two play Twister together."

"Oh, to be a boy."

"So you'd be the butch?"

I slug his arm, and he grabs my fist, holding it close to his abdomen.

"You're violent. I like it." He rubs my hostaged hand up and down his torso. I can feel his defined muscles beneath his shirt. Oh, boy.

"You'd love it if I slapped you around, huh?"

"Hell, yes. I about jizzed my pants today when you threw me against that locker. That was some hot action, wonder girl."

I pull up to his house and let the car idle. He plays with my fingers as I think over my parting words. I feel like we need some of those, some closure to tonight's weird turn of events.

"Edward?"

"Yes'um, sweet lips."

I chuckle and roll my eyes. He bites his lip, holding in his laugh. "Look, I . . ." I pull my free hand through my hair and exhale. "Thank you for helping me tonight and defending me, no matter how unnecessary that was, but this . . . geez . . . this obnoxious flirting thing, it's just . . . I can't . . ."

Edward nods like he knows what I'm saying, though my hand's still on his chest, and he's smirking.

"I get it. I have a girlfriend now, and you have an unfit-to-be-a-man jokester. It's just not the time for us."

"I couldn't have said it better myself."

"That's because I'm so eloquent, like you."

Edward leans in, arms open to hug me. I give in and embrace him. He really smells good, even though he's a little bit sweaty. He tightens his hold on me, and I feel his shaky exhale on my neck. My body breaks out into gooseflesh in response. "When I'm done with Jessica," he whispers against my skin, "I'm coming after you, Bella." He places a soft, open mouth kiss on my neck and backs away slowly. The tension, the heat, the pull that I feel for him hangs in the air.

He runs his hands down my arms all the way to the ends of my fingertips, letting my hands fall softly onto my lap.

And then he laughs.

"Man, you're so right. No sizzle between us at all. More like fizzle." He shrugs, smacks my cheek like I'm his kid sister then jogs to his door.

I drive home in complete bewilderment. What in the hell just happened?


	4. Chapter 4 Handle

**Take What You Want**

**Chapter 4**

**Word Prompt: Handle**

**Playlist: I Kinda Like You by Jeremy Ashida**

**The Bitch Song by Bowling for Soup**

February came and went. That ridiculous holiday meant for couples came and went, and so did that stupid dance that I thought Mike would ask me to but didn't. Maybe he didn't want to go with me since I've yet to get my contacts. I've been wearing my glasses since the night of Skateland. Oh, well.

Basically, February sucked, but it was getting better. Slowly. Because I was coming to terms with a lot of things. Well, with a lot of my feelings for things. Well, people.

Like Edward.

Despite my deep desire to dissect Edward's neck kiss and blatant dismissal of our chemistry – which there totally was – I had to let it go. It was and remains the safest thing to do.

Truth is, I have no clue what to think of Edward. He's just like no one I've ever known. There are no rules for him. He's on his own playing field doing whatever the hell he wants while the rest of us are waiting in the wings trying to figure out how to play and win the game. Not that I want to win. Ugh, again with the idea of winning and Edward. Just . . . no.

So, I let it go. I sat back, watched him hang all over Jessica, watched him take her to the dance – which I attended stag – and just became his friend. It's good; it works for us. It's what I wanted to begin with anyway.

And Mike, well, after my hand holding with Mike at the skating rink, I found myself hanging out with him more. He's asked me out on a few dates. We even went to the movies and held hands there. He gave me a kiss on the cheek when he said goodbye. And even though my heart felt good, and I was amazed at how much better I was getting at this dating, flirting thing, I kept comparing him to Edward.

Well, not really.

I mean, I kept comparing his kiss to Edward's.

Edward's one kiss on my neck, that is. The kiss that incidentally kept me up very late, just lost in thought about it. For several nights. Okay weeks. I still dream about it, but I try not to think about it when I'm awake. Like now. Crap.

Regardless of the sexual attraction I have to Edward, his personality still repulses me. Sort of. And he still stinks. A lot. Plus, he's dating Jessica, so I just try to stop thinking about him altogether. I really do.

Except when I see him kissing Jessica between classes. Like right now.

I stand off to the side, sorting through my backpack, glancing at them every now and then. His hands roam her back slowly, he pushes his thigh between her legs, and licks her lips. Gah!

"Hey, you," Alice says, breaking my concentration on Edward's tongue.

"Hey, we still on for a movie this weekend?"

"Yeah, girls' night. Woot." Alice pumps her fist enthusiastically, faking excitement. Jasper will be out of town for the weekend visiting his grandparents for their wedding anniversary.

"You'll survive."

"You'll provide me with chocolate, right?"

"Of course."

We amble down the hall to our next class, discussing what movie we'll watch when Edward sidles up next to me. I'm used to his arm around me as well as him tugging me around by my hand now. He just does what he wants despite my protests. "What's the plan this weekend, cookie?"

"Chick flick."

"Sweet. Oh, please be The Notebook. Oh, please. Oh, please."

"You're not invited," Alice says. "Girls only. Besides, Bella's mom is at her class tonight, and her dad's working late. Charlie would go nuts if he caught a – gasp – boy in the house."

"He's not that bad," I say, defending my dad. I'm just his little girl, that's all.

"Aw, come on. I got nuthin' to do. Jessica's got a sleepover thing. _Please._ I'll leave before anyone knows I'm there."

Alice and I exchange looks and nod simultaneously.

"You girls are so easy." He walks us to French class, arms around both of us. When Jasper's in sight, Edward releases Alice with a "Sorry, man," and ushers me into the classroom by hand. It's kind of nice. Friendly. I like it.

**-TWYW-**

Edward groans through all of The Notebook (who am I to argue his choice of movie?) as Alice and I fawn all over Ryan Gosling. He actually seems really annoyed. Like he's not amping it up. He's such a strange guy. I wonder if I'll ever figure him out.

It gets late and Alice leaves us after gorging on Pringles and chocolate covered raisins. It's the first time I'm alone with Edward – other than in a car – but it's actually quite fine. I've grown rather comfortable with him over the past few weeks. He's nice. Fun. It's simple with him. Mostly. And he's a good friend. Always makes me laugh. Even when he's being irritating.

"I need some sugar. You want?" he asks, and I nod. "'Bout time." He leans toward me, tongue peeking out of his mouth. I shove him away, though part of me wants to grab his collar and slam my mouth to his to see what it's like. And to see his response. Would he freak out and run away, or would he kiss me back?

He rummages through my kitchen like it's his own and comes back with a pint of Ben and Jerry's and a spoon.

"Where's mine?" I ask. He scoops an obscene amount of Chunky Monkey onto the spoon, crams it into his mouth, cleans it off and hands it to me, eyebrow raised.

I shrug and take a bite myself, noticing he cut his nails recently. They were getting pretty gross. He sits on the floor, his back against the couch, arm draped over the cushions. I sit beside him, sort of snuggling, and we share ice cream together.

"Can I tell you something?" he asks.

"Like you care what my answer is." I grab his hand before the spoon reaches his mouth then divert it to my own.

"True," he says, watching me thoughtfully. "You're a lot cooler than I thought."

"Gee, thanks."

"No, seriously. I mean, I know I'm like an acquired taste . . . a good one, too, from what I hear."

I knock him in the ribs with my elbow, and he 'oofs'.

"No, like I thought you'd be a fun girl, but just a girl, you know. But you're like different. I feel like I can . . . I dunno, be me."

"What does that even mean? You seem no different around anyone else. Aren't you always you?"

"I dunno. Just ignore me. Here, cream me." Edward opens wide, and I laugh because what he's just said is very, very dirty. He catches onto his joke and laughs so hard he collapses onto my lap and clutches my thighs.

"Oh, dear." I pull him up, and shove a heaping spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. "Consider this your one and only Bella Swan creaming."

He chokes on his mouthful, and I hit his back, helping him recover.

We catch our breath and sit staring at one another, eating and giggling.

"I feel sorta the same way, I think," I say.

"You do?" he asks, shy smile.

"I do. I could never have said that to Mike."

"Boo! I hate Mike." The scowl on his face is laughable.

"Why do you hate him? He's so cute."

"I don't care how cute he is."

"Ha ha! You just said Mike was cute." I prod him in the chest, and he smiles.

"I did not, I—quick, cream me again."

"Nice try," I say, though I give him another bite anyway.

"He's just . . . he's too boring for you."

I roll my eyes and hand over the tub.

"Just hear me out. Don't shut down on me like a girl."

"I am a girl, Edward."

"I am very aware of that, thank you. So . . . look . . . you like this Noah character, right? He's all lying-in-the-street, sex-in-an-abandoned-house romantic, and Mike's . . . Mike's like you-want-fries-too? romantic. Which isn't romantic. At all. He's lame, girlfriend, lame."

Edward calling me girlfriend makes me giggle. He's kind of cute all worked up like this and worried about me.

"It's fine. I like Mike."

"You like him because he's safe."

"That's not true."

"It's so true. He's so . . . vanilla."

"Oh, and you're what . . . mint chocolate chip?"

"Cherry Garcia, yo."

"Oh my gosh." I double over laughing, rubbing my thighs as they spasm a bit. "You are such an idiot."

"At least I'm interesting."

"Says you."

"And romantic."

"Again . . . says you."

"What the hell's that mean?"

"I hear Jessica talk. All she says is stuff about your hot bod and kissing ability, which by the way . . ." I flip my hair and turn on my Jessica voice, "is like totally the best ever. Even better than Tyler."

"Mmm, flip your hair again."

"I'm being her. It's just stupid."

"No, your hair smells great."

"I'm talking about your girlfriend. You shouldn't even be thinking about my hair."

"And you shouldn't be thinking about my tongue. I'm a taken man."

"I didn't say anything about your tongue."

"No, but you were watching it today."

"I . . . I was—"

" . . . Totally checking out my tongue today." Edward slips his tongue out of his mouth and wags it up and down.

I drop my head between my knees and moan.

"Aw, don't be shy. I like it. I love it when you watch me, actually. Just like you love it when I watch you."

"Oh my gosh, we are not having this conversation."

"Okay, come on, stop. You're being dumb."

I snap my head up. "No, I'm not."

"You are."

"You're with Jessica, and I'm—"

" . . . Lusting after Mike. Yes, clearly he's the boring man of your dreams, but there's something here . . . I don't really get it, but there is." He looks down quickly but then back at me.

"We're friends, Edward."

"Friends that want to kiss? I don't think so."

"I never said . . . I—"

"We're more than just friends. I'm dying to put you on my list."

I chew on my fingernails and groan, standing quickly, scanning the room, looking for an escape route. I can't believe we're talking about this.

"Sit down. What's your problem? Don't be all dramatic."

"Dramatic!" I shout, hands flying into the air. "You talk about sex like it's—like it's sharing freaking ice cream. And it's not. It's just not."

Edward tilts his head and scrunches up his face before throwing his head back and laughing.

"It's not funny," I say, stamping my foot and clutching my fists to my sides.

"You're such a pervert," he says lightly.

"I am not. You are." I point to him so there's no confusion. Really mature, I know.

"When have I ever said my list had anything to do with sex? When, huh?"

"You . . ."

He raises an eyebrow and stands directly in front of me, hands on my shoulders. "Look, I'm not gonna say I'm a saint. Hell, I'm pretty average . . . mmm, maybe above average when it comes to stuff I've done, but I'm not some sex-crazed guy. I mean, I think about it a lot. Like all the time, really, but I just . . . like to have fun, and kissing is fun. I've kissed a lot of girls, and—"

"Kissed?" I ask, wringing my shirt in my hands.

"Yes, kissed. And it mostly means nothing. It's just two mouths moving around, making the other person and yourself feel good. It's fun, but it means like nothing. But . . . it could mean something, and I . . . I kind of want it to mean something now. I feel like I'm getting too old. I mean, not old because I'm only seventeen, but I mean, more mature. Mature enough to know that it should mean more than what I've made it mean before. You know?"

"Not really."

"Well, of course you wouldn't know. I'm sure it means something when you kiss Mike."

"It doesn't. I mean, I haven't."

"What the hell?" Edward runs his hands through his hair, tugging.

"He hasn't kissed me yet."

"What is he waiting for? Idiot!" Edward paces my small living room, mumbling about Mike. Nothing positive whatsoever.

"If you were mine . . . dammit. This is so dumb. I—Jessica, and—"

"It's fine, Edward. I'm fine." I walk toward him and place my hand on his back. He jerks away from me, but then grabs me into a hug, plunging his nose into my hair.

"You smell so good. Mike's stupid, and you deserve more, and if you were mine, I . . . it would all be canoe rides to see the swans and rain-soaked kisses and—man, it would _never_ be over."

"You're with Jessica."

"So I'll break up with her."

"You'll beak her heart. She really likes you."

"I really like _you_." Edward holds me in his tight embrace, and I reciprocate, bringing my hands up to his back and holding on, enjoying his strong arms wrapped around me. I really like his words too. Mike's never said anything like this to me, though he's told me that I'm pretty a few times. It made me feel good about myself, raised my self esteem even.

This is just wrong. I can't be the other woman.

"Edward?" I pull back, but he doesn't let me go.

"Hmm?"

"I don't . . . feel that way about you. I like you, but I . . ."

"If this is about Jessica, I'll handle her. She's—"

"No, we'd kill each other. We'd—"

". . . Be awesome together. We're already on our way to becoming best friends."

"So let's do that. Let's be best friends."

Edward stiffens then drops his hands from my back, shifting his weight from side to side.

"You really . . . I mean, you don't . . ." He rubs his neck awkwardly, looking tense.

"I really like you. You annoy the hell out of me, but I could be your best friend. Okay?"

"Okay." He sighs then smiles devilishly. "Can you still cream me?"

"What am I going to do with you?" I drop my head to his chest, and his body shakes with laughter.

"I can think of a few things," he mumbles.

"Please, don't. Stop thinking of things. And keep me off your tentative lists."

"Oh, no, it's not tentative. It's real. It's just in the future. You'll see."

"Mmm hmm."

"Yep."

"Okay, then."

"Alrighty."

"I'm going to go to bed now, I think."

"Okay, see you can't . . . say 'don't put me on lists' and then 'I'm going to bed'. Because you know what I think about when you say bed? I'm a boy, and boys are—"

"Gross."

"Exactly."

"And dirty."

"Totally."

"And they stink."

"What?" he asks, laughing.

"Can I tell you something?" I say, echoing his earlier question.

"Yes."

"So . . . as your best friend—"

"I hate the sound of this already, but, fine, yes . . . as my best friend, what?"

"You kind of, well, sometimes you . . . smell." I say the last word in a whisper.

"As in, I need to shower, smell?

"Yes?" I say it as a question.

"I smell bad."

I nod my head, and he lifts his arm to sniff his pit. He looks so adorable I'm rethinking this whole "lets be friends" thing already.

"Really?"

"Not all the time, but sometimes you're a bit ripe, and—"

"Ripe? Really? If you're going to be my best friend you can't lie to me. Tell me like it is. Be my inside source to girls here."

"Fine, okay, yes. You smell."

"You're such a bitch."

I make a strangled noise in my throat, feeling absolutely scandalized. When I look up at him he's laughing silently. He's such a jerk.

"Get out of here." I push him toward the couch. He snags his keys off the coffee table and heads to the door. We stumble over our feet, laughing. I wrench open the door, not looking while shouting, "Stop trying to kiss me! I'm never going to be on your stupid sex list!"

Edward's rigid, and I'm digging into his back with my shoulder trying to push him out of the door, but he won't budge.

"And don't think standing there will get you into my pants. I'm not gonna be easy just because I creamed you today, and—"

A throat clears, and I know I'm dead.

I peek around Edward's shoulder and keep my eyes trained on a pair of familiar shoes. "Hi, Daddy. Um, this is Edward. He's my best friend."

"Goodbye, best friend," my dad says and grips Edward's shoulder, flinging him out of our house, slamming the door behind him.

**A/N:** Take What You Want Tidbits are up on my blog. Link's on the profile. I'm throwing up pics, music, etc. Essentially anything that tickles my fancy, I'm posting for your entertainment. Woot. You may want to know that this Edward has been dubbed Dirtyflirtward, but you're welcome to call him whatever you'd like.

Hi, wolf girls! I see you lurking here, PrncessButtercup, TeamJacobYeah, and LuvinJ. There, there, it's okay to like Edward. It really is. And I won't tell a soul that you're reading about Edweird, I promise. ;)


	5. Chapter 5 Rope

**Take What You Want**

**Chapter 5**

**Word Prompt: Rope**

**Plot Generator—Phrase Catch: Kicking it into high gear.**

**Playlist: Can't Stand It by Never Shout Never**

"Mom, he threw him out. Literally. I know he's protective, but come on. And grounded for the year? It's so stupid."

"I know, I know. The grounding thing was just stupid, and I told him he was overreacting, that you wouldn't be so dumb as to do anything with a boy here, but—"

"And I didn't. We're just friends."

"Your dad did say, and I quote, 'he's a dangerous looker.'" My mom snorts as she stirs pancake batter.

"Oh, no."

"So is he? Is he cute? Tell me he's cute."

"He's gorgeous."

"Ooh, I'm so happy for you!" She holds the pancake flipper to her chest like it's a cherished thing.

"There's nothing to be happy for. He has a girlfriend. We're just—"

"Friends. Yeah, you said that before blushing and making that dopey face."

"I didn't make a dopey face."

"Uh huh. That's why your dad's so freaked out. Dopey faces on girls mean they get pregnant."

"No, they don't."

"I did. I got a dopey face and then . . ." Mom makes a round shape with her hand over her belly and puffs out her cheeks.

"I'm not you."

"Thank goodness. Though, I wish you had my good eyesight. You should get your contacts taken care of. They've been calling for weeks. That prescription's ready, and those glasses . . ." She shakes a finger in my face, like I'm making some great fashion mistake. "But, really," she continues, "that's what I was telling him. That you're smart and are not gonna just kick it into high gear or anything."

"I know; I won't."

"So if you weren't doing anything, and he was leaving, what did Charlie see? Why was he so upset?"

"I was . . . I kinda . . . made an innuendo about ice cream." I bring my hand to my mouth and start chewing on my fingers.

"Bella Swan! How dare you make a dirty joke! Have I taught you nothing?" Her firm voice is fake, and she's trying not to laugh. My mother loves a good, crass joke, so this is right up her alley. "Truthfully, I'm a little proud. I'm excited for you. You haven't seen any action since Jake."

"I really miss him. I thought he was _the one_."

"You were twelve, honey, we all think that when we're twelve."

"He was a good kisser," I say, remembering with clarity just how good his lips felt on mine. If Mom only knew . . .

"I'm so glad. Every girl deserves a good, first kiss. Did I tell you about Derek?"

"Yes, Mom, please just don—"

"I was parked in my driveway; he'd just dropped me home." Mom flips her pancake then turns to face me, bracing herself on the countertop with her hands. "I was so excited. My first kiss. I knew he was going to kiss me. I could just feel it in the air. And then he did."

"And then he did." I sigh along with my mother.

"It was so nice and sweet and then—" Mom flops her tongue out of her mouth, and lets it sit there like a blob.

I bust up laughing at the thought.

"It was the nastiest thing. That fat, floppy tongue just sitting in my mouth." She shudders and goes back to her breakfast. "But your dad . . . now, he can kiss."

"Ew, Mom, no."

"Know what else he can do?" Mom starts swinging her hips around the kitchen in some sort of sexy rumba. "You should see if this kid can dance. Good dancers are good in bed."

"I'm not gonna sleep with him." I'm appalled. My mother's insane.

"You never know. You'll see. If he's a good enough kisser you'll at least think about it, trust me."

"Whatever. He's too smelly to think about sleeping with, not to mention his dreaded fingernails."

My mother whips around, pointing her spatula at me. "That's him . . . dirty, long fingernail guy from French and that whatever, whatever class?"

"Yep."

"Oh, _oh_. Well, you can't. No, just no. Dirty fingernails are a non-negotiable." My mother swipes her hand in front of her as if to say, "That's it."

"See . . ."

"But how gorgeous is gorgeous?" She leans over the counter, completely forgetting her task, and I drop my head onto the island, groaning.

"He's unbelievable," I mumble into the granite.

"Yearbook. Go. Now!"

I grin and run to my room to find last year's album. She meets me on my bed as I turn pages. Once I find his picture, I twirl it around and push it toward her.

"Oh, honey. You keep him on a tight rope. Fingernails can be cut."

**-TWYW-**

After Edward was thrown out of my house, I worried that he'd be freaked. I called him right away only to find him initially shocked, but then laughing his ass off. He thinks my dad's a riot and wants to get to know him. Probably bug him the way he bugs me. Well, not exactly.

Monday morning I'm at my locker, gathering my things for my English class when there's a commotion in the hall. I look up, and there's Edward, breathing heavy, having slammed his texts and binder to the ground. "It wasn't over. It still isn't over!" He twitches his fingers, and I know exactly what he wants me to do, so I do it.

I drop my things and run full tilt, leaping into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist, and kissing his cheeks while giggling.

"That was hot, and you didn't fall or anything," he says, patting my back.

He walks me to my locker while passersby stare at us. It's strange to be gaped at this way, but Edward seems completely at ease with it. Then again, he's always doing weird things like this and carrying girls all around. I just decide to go with the flow and stop worrying about it.

That is, until Jessica gets catty with me at lunch.

"Is it true?" she sneers.

"Ith vhat trr?" I ask through a be-sandwiched mouth.

"Lauren told me you jumped on Edward and were kissing him all over."

I shrug, and she sits next to me, glaring.

"I didn't kiss him. We were acting out a scene from The Notebook."

"And that's better?" She's getting hysterical, her voice rising in pitch. "I thought you were my friend."

Friend? Hell, no. And how is this all on me? Edward's the player, not me.

I exchange a look with Alice, and she pipes in for me. "You knew Edward was a flirt. He's that way with all the girls."

"Hell, he flirts with Alice when I'm right there," Jasper adds in.

"He flirts with me too," Emmett says as he takes a seat with us. Usually he sits with Mike and his other senior friends, but Alice has a Tupperware of fresh brownies with her he's going to snag. At least, that's my guess.

"Who flirts with you? You're not cheating on my sister, are you?" Edward asks as he sits next to me, completely avoiding his livid girlfriend.

"Are you kidding me? She'd have my balls," Emmett says, lowering his hand beneath the table to supposedly cup himself.

"That's all I'm sayin'. Hey," Edward bumps my elbow with his and nods his head in greeting.

"Hello, I'm right here, Edward," Jessica says in irritation.

"I see you. Hi, baby." He leans behind my back and goes for a quick kiss.

"Why are you flirting with all these girls?" she huffs.

Edward smirks and tries not to laugh, though he fails miserably as do the other guys when he blurts, "'Cause boobs are prettier than—"

"Okay, we get it," I say, then go back to my sandwich. I'm staying out of this.

"I don't want you flirting with all these girls."

"Fine, let's break up." He shrugs his shoulders and attacks his hamburger. He gives me a tight-lipped smile, ketchup at the corners of his mouth. He's so gross, but somehow it works for him.

"You want to break up?" Her voice is wimpy, girly. I'm embarrassed for her.

He makes a sound like 'mmm hmm nnn', like he couldn't care less.

"I don't want that."

"Okay," he says, then turns his eyes on me. "Wipe my lips, poopsie?" I pick up the napkin nearest him and wipe his mouth. He licks his lips suggestively afterward, and I roll my eyes.

"What are you doing after school?" he asks, and suddenly all eyes are on me.

"Getting my contacts, finally."

"'Bout time, four eyes," Jessica mutters.

"No! You can't. What will happen to my librarian fantasy?" Edwards sounds completely dejected. I laugh at his pouty lips.

"Seriously?" Alice asks. "Guys have those?"

"Yeah," Emmett belts while Jasper nods vigorously.

"Dude, if Bella wasn't like my little sister . . . those glasses are hot."

"Aw, well, thanks for putting me off my meal, Emmett. Appreciate it," I say.

We settle in for our lunch, and the topic moves around from the latest gossip to the most annoying teachers. But soon we come back around to a subject I've been wondering about since lunch began.

"How long have you been dating Rose?" I ask Emmett.

"Mmm, define dating."

"She won't admit they're a couple," Edward pipes in.

"You're sister's a smart girl." I pat Edward's cheek, and Jessica crosses her arms over her chest beside me. Ooh, good one, Jess.

"I really miss her. I wish she hadn't graduated early." Alice plops her head into her hands, and Jasper strokes her hair affectionately.

"Me too," Edward murmurs, and Emmett nods in assent.

I think about how Alice idolized Rose last year before she decided to accelerate her education. I never knew her. Not really. Rose isn't the cuddliest girl. She intimidated me, so I steered clear of her. Just like I tried to steer clear of her bother.

But that's not working out so great.

"Okay, so when should I be there?" Edward asks, rubbing his hands on his jeans to clean them of their grease.

"Be where?" Jessica asks, leaning over me, her cleavage popping out the top of her shirt.

"To help pretty eyes, here, decide against getting her contacts."

"I thought we were going to study." Jessica stands, tiptoes behind my back, and sits on Edward's lap. He kisses her shoulder and grins.

"We'll study later, baby. I'll come over around dinner. You'll feed me, right?"

"Mmm hmm," she simpers.

I glance at Alice, and she and I have trouble not laughing aloud at this ridiculous display.

"Oh, damn, I forgot my lab notes for bio. You remember my locker combo?"

Jessica nods and jumps off his lap, then leans in for a kiss. It's a good one, too. Damn.

Once she's gone, Jasper says what we're all thinking. "Why, dude, why?"

"Why not?" Edward responds, and no one argues. He turns me toward him by the legs of my chair then slaps his hands on my thighs. "Okay, what time? I wanna go."

"Even if I end up getting contacts?"

"Yes," he says, whining. "But will you at least try on some glasses for me?"

I stand and start to walk away. This is nonsense.

"You know you will!" he shouts behind me. "I always get what I want . . . eventually."

I shake my head, laughing as I leave the cafeteria. But not because it's funny. I'm laughing because I'm terrified that his words are true.


	6. Chapter 6 Traffic

**Take What You Want**

**Chapter 6**

**Word Prompt: Traffic**

**Playlist: A Day Dream Away by All Time Low**

Heading to Lens Crafters is a nightmare. The traffic is heinous, and Edward played basketball after school while he was waiting for me to gather my crap. He's pretty much stinking up my car. I roll down the window, trying to get some fresh air, and he laughs.

"It's really that bad?" he asks, and I grimace but don't say anything. I don't want to hurt his feelings. "Just say what you need to say."

"But then I'd have to inhale," I say quickly, then cover my mouth with my hand.

He belts out a hearty laugh, pulls his feet out of his shoes, and props them up onto the dash, making a 'aw, isn't that refreshing?' noise. I freeze and hold my breath. I feel like I've been trapped.

"You can't hold it forever, flower girl."

"You're so mean, and, oh man, I think I just threw up a bit in my mouth."

"I love this. The friendship we have. The honesty just pours out of your mouth, like—"

"Raw sewage." I look pointedly at his feet, and he pulls them down, as though embarrassed.

And then he sticks them on me.

Reeking, hot, damp, socked feet rub up and down my bare arm, and I scream.

"Make it stop! Oh, please, make it stop!" I can't even bring myself to smack his feet down; the idea is too disgusting. I whimper, pretending to cry, but he doesn't stop. In fact, his feet are on the roam now, running down my thigh. Ew. Everything's going to stink.

"Well, you don't have to cry. I was bored. This traffic licks balls."

I don't want to laugh . . . because yuck . . . 'licks balls.' But come on. So funny. So I do. I laugh, and Edward seems happy about that. His grin is wide, eyes smiling too. He strokes my cheek then gives me a wet willy.

We come to a complete stop on the road, and Edward yells, "Chinese fire drill!"

"What!"

"Put it in park."

I do.

"Ready, go!" Edward unbuckles my seatbelt and jumps from his seat, running around the front of the car, slamming his hands on the hood, screaming. I have yet to move. When he comes to my side and opens the door for me, he yanks me up and out by my arm. He gets in, buckles himself, and smirks from behind the window.

What is going on? He motions with his hand for me to do something. I walk around the car and get in, buckling myself.

Edward drops his head and sighs. "Well, I thought that maybe . . . but never mind. You're perfect for Mike."

"Hey!" I backhand him in the chest. I know that's an insult coming from him.

"It's your problem not mine."

"What's that even mean?"

"See . . . a problem is when—"

"No, smartass, that I'm perfect for Mike."

"Well, he's boring and . . . you're boring, so . . ."

"I am not boring. I do fun things all the time."

"That other people plan," he says out the side of his mouth in a garbled way. We're moving now, creeping down the road. We could get out and walk faster than this. I hate rush hour.

"I plan fun things. Just last week my mom and I took a jewelry class together."

Edward turns his attention to me, eyes wide with excitement. "Ooh, your mother! And you didn't tell anyone? I bet it was just swell what with all the old, gray-haired granny's making clay beads and whatnot."

"Shut up, jerk, it was fun." I shove him and cross my arms. "And my mom is hip and young. In fact . . . mmm, nope, not gonna tell you now . . . I'll show you whose boring."

"Fine."

"Fine."

We drive in silence, playing our game. I giggle out loud thinking about some of the things my mom said to me, and Edward's amused expression tells me he's dying to know what I have to say.

Several minutes pass, and no one has broken the silent spell, other than me and my occasional laughter. That doesn't count, though. We come to a stop light, and I can't stand it anymore. So I do something about it.

"Chinese fire drill!"

This time Edward's dumb founded, but only momentarily. We run around the car twice, screaming and laughing. He gets inside and blasts the radio, but I stand on the ledge and pound on the hood, singing the song.

The light turns green, but I don't do anything about it. I keep singing. Even Edward's yelling for me to shut up, but I don't budge.

"Girl, get in the car. You're acting like a maniac."

Horns blare, I get the bird, and one man calls me a nut job.

"Sorry, sorry. She just had a lobotomy," Edward calls out to the other drivers as he walks my way and folds me into the driver's side.

I smile and stick my tongue out at him. I'm not boring at all.

**-TWYW-**

Getting contacts and picking out glasses is usually very mundane, but with Edward tagging along, it's anything but.

He pulls me by hand along a long wall of glasses to choose from. He doesn't exchange actual words with me, just uses me as a doll, placing glasses on my face and eyeing me. It's weird, but I like being this closely scrutinized.

"Hmm, thin like you?" A pair with a small metal frame is perched on my nose. He takes them off quickly and pulls me a few feet down.

"Can I help you, Miss?" a sales guy says.

"No, thanks. She'll pick out something boring because she's boring." Edward smirks when I make a face, pulling my lips off to one side, but I don't say a word.

"Um, okay, just let me know if you need anything," the guy says.

"We won't. Unless . . . you don't happen to have enemas, do you? Because . . ." Edward thrusts his thumb toward me. Without a second thought I grab and bite it. Bad idea.

Edward's eyes narrow and dart to my lips.

Then he starts to laugh, though he leaves his thumb in my mouth.

Well, I can work with this. I wrap my lips around his thumb, taking it all the way into my mouth before pulling it back out.

I grin, like I've won some sexy game. Edward walks away, patting me on the back, saying, "I'm glad it didn't taste like my foot since I was scratching earlier."

"Oh my gosh, Edward!" I peer around the room, frantic, looking for something, anything to . . . I don't know . . . deal with this horror.

"I think she might need some water," Edward says to the sales associate.

I chug down my water and pay my bill for my contacts – only contacts – all while glaring at him.

"I didn't do this. You're the moron that sucked me."

"I did not."

"You totally did."

The woman that rings us up is continuously glancing at Edward and smiling. How can she find him attractive when he stinks like he does right now? Gross. Maybe she thinks it's only temporary. Me? I know different. There are more bad days than good days.

When he started dating Jessica, I thought he might bathe more, but that hasn't happened. Then I thought my telling him about his stink would make him budge, but no. What is he waiting for? Is he that lazy?

**-TWYW-**

The silent, stinky car ride to Edward's home makes me agitated. I'm mad at Edward for letting me suck on his filthy thumb, but it's more than that. He called me boring. Twice. I am _not_ boring.

I pull up to his house, and he gets out without a word. I can't even watch him go inside, I'm so angry. I reverse out of the driveway, and Edward comes running after me, slamming on my window. Why does he always do that?

I stomp on the brake, put the car into park, and roll down the window.

"I'm sorry, okay? I'm really sorry. It's so gross. It's not funny, and I should really take better care of my feet. And not scratch them around you. And I smell. And I'm rude and loud and—"

"I am not boring!" I shout. "How can you even say that?"

Edward braces himself on my window with his palms and leans in, saying, "You're—damn, you're a hottie when you're mad. Pink cheeks, dark eyes, just . . . yeah."

"Forget it." I push the window button, but he stills my hand, bringing it to his stomach.

"No, look . . . I mean, you are a hottie right now, but I know. I know you're not boring; I just was trying to get a rise out of you. I'm sorry. You're not boring. You're cool. You're fun. You're _Bella_. Don't be mad. Please, don't be mad."

"I'm not mad. I'm just—you make me feel like . . . I don't know. I guess I just think . . . maybe it's true. Maybe you're right."

"What?" Edward opens the car door and turns off the ignition, taking my keys. He offers me his hand, and we sit on plastic patio chairs on his porch. I stare dumbly at the empty flower bed.

"Look at me." Edward lowers his head, catching my eyes. "You are not boring. Say it."

"You are not boring."

He bites his lip and shakes his head.

The front door opens wide, a pretty, petite woman with Edward's hair coloring stands inside, a dish towel on her shoulder.

"I thought I heard you. Oh, hi! Who's this? You kids hungry? Dad'll be home soon; go change."

"This's Bella. She'll stay to eat." Edward ushers me into his home, and that's how I end up eating dinner with the Cullen family.

**A/N:** I caved and asked Cejsmom to preread. She's fabulous, by the way! Anyhoo, these chapters are prettier and make more sense now because of her.

Also, for you die hard fluffers, there will be some angst. It's very minimal. But, really, what's high school without a little heartbreak? You're expecting it, aren't you? Just nod your head and don't flame me when things go down.


	7. Chapter 7 Upset

**Take What You Want**

**Chapter 7**

**Word Prompt: Upset**

**Playlist: All I Wanna Do by Sheryl Crow**

**Dynamite by Taio Cruz**

**What You Waiting For by Gwen Stefani**

Using his toes, Edward peels off his shoes, and his mother gives him a nasty look.

"Yes, Mom," he says, walking down the hall, opening a door and chucking them inside.

"Dinner will be in less than an hour. Ooh, Dad just pulled up. Meet him in the garage when you're ready."

"'K, but what about this one?" Edward points at me to explain who 'this one' is.

"Would you like to help me, Bella?"

"Um, sure."

Edward goes into his room while I join his mother in the kitchen.

"Esme, by the way," she says. "Just give me a sec, all right?"

I nod, and she disappears through a small door near their breakfast table – the garage, I think. When she returns she begins pulling vegetables from the refrigerator. "I told him to shorten their run; they won't be too long. Do you like stir fry?"

**-TWYW-**

I'm setting the table when loud, male laughter comes from the front room. I peek up, and Edward's dad – who's just as handsome (and stinky) as he is – takes a look at me, a look at Edward, and then smiles. "You must be Bella."

"Yeah."

"Carlisle. This dork's dad. You know Rose too, right?"

"Yeah, she was friends with my girlfriend, Alice."

"You have a girlfriend?" Carlisle's expression is giddy, if not down right flirtatious.

Oh, boy. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, does it?

I try not to give him a bitchy look, but Edward's laughter tells me I've failed.

"I like her." Carlisle turns to Edward, clapping him on the back of his damp, pit-stained shirt. "Time to hit the showers, stinker."

"Yeah." Edward rubs the back of his neck, watching me as I finish setting the table.

"What?" I say, feeling judged.

"Nuthin'. I'mma shower."

"Good. You need to."

Esme chuckles as she enters the dining room. "I can see why he likes you."

"Mom—" Edward starts, but she cuts him off.

"Don't mom me. And clean up Bart's poop before you shower."

"Can't it wait? We have a guest."

"Like you've ever cared that we have a guest. Get your lazy butt out there."

"Yes, Mom." Edward walks past me and out the back door screaming, "Bart! Thanks for ruining my life!"

I laugh when Esme shakes her head. "Boy begged for that stupid mutt when he was ten. Swore he'd love it forever. Forever lasted two weeks. Doesn't help either that he's as lazy as they come. So smart, but lazy. I can't get him to do anything. I try, but . . ." She shrugs. "What's a mother to do?"

Carlisle comes to join us just as Edward runs down the hall to shower. "Hey, sugar momma," he says to his wife, wrapping his arms around her waist and placing his chin on her shoulder. "Should we embarrass Edward while he showers?"

"I think he embarrasses himself plenty. He doesn't really need help in that department," I say, filling water glasses with ice.

Esme and Carlisle laugh openly at their son in my presence. I'm kind of in love with them.

**-TWYW-**

When I get home from Edward's, I'm exhausted. My body aches from physical exertion. I lay down on my bed resting when the phone vibrates next to me.

"Hello?" I sound dead. I'm so tired.

"Hey, where've you been? Your mom said you went to get contacts, but then you disappeared for hours." Alice clicks her tongue impatiently over the phone.

"I'm sorry. I left my phone in the car. And I know I said we'd hang later, but Edward's mother dragged me into dinner, and I just couldn't—"

"You ate dinner with Edward?"

"Well, yeah. I actually cooked with his mom. He was out running with his dad, so she was like, 'wanna help?', and I was like, 'um, okay.' I thought it would be weird, but it wasn't."

"It wasn't weird eating dinner with Edward and his family?"

"No, it was fun. We played the Wii afterward. Did you know Edward's favorite game is Just Dance? Oh my gosh, you should, you—oh, I can't breath—" I go into hysterics, laughing at the memories of Edward twirling around in his living room. "You should – ho, gosh – see him dancing to _Dynamite_. He looks like he's throwing a fit."

"Well, well, well . . . I wondered, but now, now I know."

"You know what?"

"You're totally falling for him."

"What? I am not; we're friends. I know he likes me, but it's—I mean, I'm not—it's not like—"

"Not—hmm—what—you can't even form a sentence, you're so infatuated." Alice's tone tells me how stupid she thinks I am. Oh, well.

"I am not. He's fun. We have a good time together."

"How _good_ a time?"

"Alice—"

"Okay, fine, don't admit it. Whatever. So can you help me with that math problem or what?"

"Yes, which one . . ."

**-TWYW-**

Friday proves to be interesting. I thought I would get some Jessica backlash since Edward spent dinner with me instead of her, but I don't. I wonder what he did to get out of that pickle. I figured she'd go berserk, but I also know he can be pretty persuasive when he wants to be. So who knows how he made it up to her. Frankly, I don't want to know. Not really.

What I do know, though, is today there is PDA galore from the couple. Honestly, I'm embarrassed for them. There's loads of kissing, Jessica sits on Edward anytime they're seated, and when they're not, she rides him. Piggyback, cradle, shoulders . . . you name it, she does it. It's too much, if you ask me.

However, as much as Jessica bugs me, I admire her freedom to do what she wants. She just goes for it. Kind of like Edward. Following their example, I decide I should do the same. So before the bell rings for the day, I've secured a date with Mike for Saturday night.

I plan the whole thing.

We picnic near the lake at the park and listen to a concert with local musicians. We have a good time, but I find my mind wandering to Edward. And embarrassingly enough, I laugh out loud and have to cover with a fake cough when I remember dancing with him to Gwen Stefani's _What You Waiting For?_ He stopped doing the moves and started doing some booty slap dance. I can't stop thinking about how dumb he looked. His mother even came in the room taking a picture to immortalize the absurdity of it all.

When the concert's over we take a lap around the park.

"Do you come to these concerts often?" Mike asks.

"Mmm, I used to. My mom was obsessed with up and coming female artists, so we'd listen to whatever newbie was singing. My mom regrets not being able to say 'I knew Sheryl Crow when.'"

"Oh, I'm not sure who that is, but if your mom likes her, I'm sure she's great."

"Come on, you don't know . . . _all I wanna do is have some fun_?" I sing the words and worry immediately about my ability to do so.

"It's vaguely familiar. Is she brunette?"

"Yeah; she's very soulful. You'd love her."

"We'll have to listen to one of her songs together sometime."

"Okay."

Mike takes my hand, and we walk in silence, occasionally saying hi to passersby. There's loud laughter a ways off, and I watch as a couple rolls down a tall, grassy hill. I point them out and smile at Mike. "Looks like fun."

"They're gonna be itchy later," he says.

I frown and chew on my fingers. I wouldn't mind rolling down the hills with Mike. I feel a bit upset since he can't take a hint but decide to press on as a playground comes into view. "Come on! I'll race ya!" I run toward the slide, and Mike's behind me, keeping up easily.

I run straight up the slide, forgoing the stairs, and plummet back down once I'm at the top.

"You're gonna kill yourself, Bella."

"Oh, please. Kids do it everyday."

"And you're not a kid."

"I know. Come swing with me." I boldly grip Mike's hand, and we sit on the swings, keeping our clasped hands between us.

"Bella?"

"Yeah?"

"I know we've only been on a few dates, but I thought . . . well, I was wondering if you'd like to be my girlfriend?" His words are quiet but sure. He looks confident, and he should be. I like him. He's sweet.

"Your girlfriend?"

He nods, smiling.

I bite down on my lip. Is this really happening? "I'd love to."

"Can I—do you mind if I . . ." Mike leans in, and we have our first kiss on a swing set at the park.

And all I can think about is Edward.

By the time the kiss is over, I know Alice is right: I'm totally falling for him.

**A/N:** Thanks so much for everyone who reads, reviews, and pimps this story. I had a huge influx of readers because of word of mouth, which is equal parts awesome and scary. Take What You Want is fun to write, especially with Dirtyflirtward leading me by the hand, so it might get a little crazy around here. Sorry about that, but you know you love it anyway.


	8. Chapter 8 I'm Not Sure

**Take What You Want**

**Chapter 8  
>Dialogue Flex: "I'm not sure I can fix this," she said.<strong>

**Playlist: Tonight, Tonight by Hot Chele Rae**

"You look like a genie," Edward says as his greeting when I answer the door.

My wet mop is twisted up in a hair towel. So, yeah, I guess I do look like a genie. Oh, well.

"Well, hi to you too, Edward."

He walks into my home without being invited in. He rummages in my fridge for a drink and is gulping it down when my mother comes in from the laundry room, carrying a basket.

"Hi," she says.

"Mom," Edward sings. He walks up to her, takes the basket, sets it down, and gives her a hug.

"Wow, aren't you friendly?" she says.

"You have no idea," I mutter, and Edward and my mother laugh.

"And I dance too." He twirls my mother, who's positively beaming at Edward. Oh, boy.

"I've heard you've got some moves."

Edward smirks and glances my direction. He looks so smug, I want to beat him.

"Your daughter's in love with me, but she doesn't know it yet," he whispers aloud for us all to hear.

If only he knew how true those words might be . . .

"I won't tell her," she whispers, then says in her normal volume, "Nice to meet you, Edward. I have _stuff_ to do." My mother picks up her basket, peeks at Edward's clean, short fingernails, and smiles at me before leaving.

"She knows my name," Edward says proudly, pointing at my mother's retreating form. "And I didn't even tell her who I was."

"Oh, shut up."

**-TWYW-**

"Are you ready yet, babycakes?"

Edward's sitting on my bed, reading a magazine. He looks at the clock, then looks at me, then back again. Clearly, I'm taking too long.

"I just need a minute." I unclip the top of my hair so I can straighten it.

"You said that five minutes ago."

"Maybe if you shut up I can get done faster."

"Dude, you're bitchy tonight. I like it."

Edward steps up behind me, twisting my necklace, getting the clasp in the right spot. He runs his fingers up my neck and touches the tips of my ears. He tilts his head, getting a closer look at my earring. "J'aime une boucle d'oreille." He runs his nose down my neck, breathing me in. "Man, why do you have to smell so good?"

Oh, dear.

Edward whispering French brings me really close to my breaking point, I think. It doesn't even matter what he's talking about. The second his breath brushes my neck I feel myself becoming weaker in every way.

His lips in such close proximity to my neck remind me of the night when he kissed me there. My stomach flutters, but I fight it. I'm with Mike. It's not okay to be having lascivious thoughts about Edward when I'm Mike's girlfriend. _We're just friends_, I remind myself, then insult Edward.

Because that's what I do.

"I'm making up for your stink."

"Hey, I showered tonight." Edward places his hands on my waist and drags a thumb underneath my shirt on my belly. It feels too good. More than 'just friends' good. Dammit.

"Good, and Jessica better thank me for that talk we had. I can't believe you were only showering after you ran with your dad."

"But that's the best time. And I never knew when he'd want to run – morning or night. I don't want to shower twice in a day. That's weird."

"You're weird. And gross. So gross, Edward. So. Gross."

"I know. I'm a groddy, disgusting boy. Yet, somehow, I'm the one with a significant other. Hmm, wonder what that means . . ."

"That you're easy."

He belts out a laugh, and I can't keep my eyes off his stunning, happy reflection. He lets his head fall onto my shoulder where he continues to giggle, and I have the overwhelming urge to grip his hair and pull his head to mine to kiss him. Instead, I bonk his head with my own. "Are you done bothering me yet?"

Edward pops his head up, catching my eyes in the mirror. "Oh, I'll never be done with you. Never."

He walks away completely unruffled and plops back onto my bed. He looks too good there, so I avert my gaze and finish up my hair so we can go to the party.

**-TWYW-**

We meet up with our friends at Garret's house – some senior Emmett knows. His parents went out of town last minute, so we only heard about the party earlier today.

As soon as we get there Jessica finds Edward and fondles him or something. He looks happy to see her, but whatever.

Alice and I make the rounds, chatting with friends and gossiping about Jessica. We eat some snacks while I pan the room. Edward's sitting on the couch next to Angela. She's a junior like us, only she skipped a grade. She always looks out of place at these events because of her age and maybe even naïveté.

Edward's hand is on her knee, and she's got a hold of his fingers, looking at his ring.

"Stop staring. You look jealous," Alice says.

"I'm not." I chew on my fingers while watching them. I want to know what they're saying.

"Oh, yes, you are."

"It's just Angela. She's the preacher's daughter. Besides, Jessica's sure to squash that crap soon anyway."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Alice says, sounding like she knows something.

I motion for her to continue, but all she says is, "She ran out of here with some girlfriends, bitching about Edward."

"Hmm. I'm gonna go save Angela then."

"Mmm hmm. You do that."

With my hands on my hips I march over to the couch and kick Edward's foot. "Leave the innocent alone, you monster."

"But Angie likes me." Edward squeezes her shoulders like she's a kid. "We're editing partners in English. She knows just where to put my commas."

What an idiot. Angela just smiles. She's too innocent to even get his lame innuendo.

"I'm gonna get a drink; you want to come?"

Angela says goodbye to Edward and follows me into the kitchen. "I don't really drink though," she says nervously.

"It's fine; there's sodas in here too."

"Oh, good. You're not driving are you?" Her eyes are wide with concern for me.

"No, Edward is."

"You came with Edward?"

"Yeah."

"He's really sweet. And cute," she adds, looking slightly embarrassed that she said that aloud.

"It's okay to admit, Angela. I can't stand him, and I still think he's cute."

She laughs with me, and we chat for awhile about a physics teacher we both had the previous year.

Angela disappears with a friend of hers, so I search for Alice.

With a drink in hand, I head outside, but she's not there. Edward is. He's hanging out with some of his friends, and Jessica's nowhere to be found. Good.

He takes a delicate sip from his red cup and looks like a complete moron doing so. His pinky's up and everything. Just as I'm about to say something, he jerks his head back and launches his spit into the air, aiming at an old beach ball across the yard.

He completely misses, and I call out, "Loser!" to him.

"What?" he barks, so I shout it again, this time making a large L with my thumb and index finger on my forehead.

"Take it back." He steps toward me.

"No. What are you gonna do? Come and get me?"

"You betch'yer ass."

Edward throws his cup to the ground while running toward me. I take off, dashing through the pool gate and scrambling around to the deep end where I back myself into a corner.

Edward enters through the gate and closes it, the lock clicking shut. His eyes are squinty, and he's crouched like he's hunting.

Crap! What did I do?

"Last chance, swansong."

I shake my head and goad him on. "Not in a million years."

He crunches through the dead leaves, and my stomach churns in anticipation. He's going to catch me. Damn, I want him to catch me!

This is equal parts sexy, exciting, and scary.

That water is cold, and I have a feeling I'm going to be in it soon. He's inches away, so I do the only thing I can think of: I throw my drink in his face.

I only see the first drops fall from his face before I'm in his arms and we're careening into the water together.

I come up quickly, gasping for air, the cold water making it difficult to breathe. But Edward's there immediately, dunking me back under. I fight him, kicking and hitting, trying to get up and get air in my lungs. When he lets me up, I yell immediately, "You don't have to be such an asshole. I can't breathe."

"Shit, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He reaches out and pulls me to him, my legs immediately wrapping around his waist. I throw my arms around him and let him keep me afloat, happy to be breathing again. And happy to be in his arms. I rest my head on his shoulder and just catch my breath. "Are you okay, Bella?"

"I'm fine, just—it scared me."

"Hey, I'm really—"

"Shut up, I know," I say, my face buried in his warm neck.

Someone wolf-whistles, and Edward raises his arms out of the water. I lift my head, catching the remainder of his double bird and laugh quietly, enjoying the feel of being so close, floating in his arms.

"Come on," he says gently. He lifts me, hands on my thighs and carries me through the water, up the stairs, and into the house.

He sets me down on a bathroom counter, but I don't let go. I'm really cold and can't stop my teeth from chattering. That's what you get for swimming in early March.

"You're freezing, baby. Here." Edward wraps a towel around me, but I can't feel it. I can't feel anything because I've gone entirely numb.

He's called me every nickname in the book, but . . . baby? Baby is reserved for his loved-one, so to speak. His girlfriend. Once, late at night, I imagined Edward calling me baby and nearly gagged. I thought it was so stupid, so cliché, but to hear it? To physically hear it has made me catatonic, it seems.

What is going on with me?

"Bella?"

I can't say a thing. I keep staring at his lips. I really want to touch them.

"Are you okay?" His voice is rising in volume, and his words are coming out quick. "Are you in shock or something?"

Or something.

"Okay, don't be mad and don't hit me, but I gotta get you warm." Edward pushes the towel off my shoulders and pulls my shirt over my head in one swift motion, my arms rising with the pull of the fabric like limp noodles.

Edward stares briefly at my chest, exhaling loudly, but he averts his eyes quickly and pulls the towel up and over me again.

"Oh, please . . ." His words trail off, and he sneaks his hands under the towel, inching them upward until his fingers fiddle with the button on my jeans, undoing it. "Don't be lacey," he mutters as my zipper slides down. Edward groans, and I snap out of it, gripping his hands to stop him.

"Oh, thank you," he says, dropping his head onto my shoulder. "Are you okay?" He leans back and places his hands on my cheeks, looking me over in concern.

Usually I insult, but now, after staring at his lips and being held in his strong arms and having him look at me that way . . . I can't help myself. I don't want to help myself. I want to help us. So I flirt, the best that I can.

"You were totally getting me naked, weren't you? You were just gonna go for it."

"I was worried about you. Why didn't you say anything? Geez, I thought—I mean—"

"You're seriously worried. Oh my gosh, you're like all sweet and everything." I hit him, but the towel drops when I do so, and Edward's eyes drop with it.

"Yep, I'm totally worried right now. You're cold. Probably freezing, by the looks of your nipples."

I snatch up the towel, once again covering myself and glare. "Are you ready to take me home, pervert? I _am_ freezing, just so you know. Go get your hussy, and let's get out of here."

"Nope, she's not coming home with us."

"Good, did someone throw water on her and she melted?"

Edward laughs, and I chuckle with him. He runs a hand through his wet hair and lifts his head, his eyes locked with mine. "No, she . . ." He takes a step toward me, nudging my knee to the side so he can stand between my legs. "She broke up with me. Said I had a 'wandering eye.' Wonder where she got that idea." He makes a great show of looking me up and down, and when his eyes catch mine again, I have the urge to kiss him. Hard. Just swallow him whole. But I don't, so I continue talking.

"I wonder," I whisper, staring at his lips.

Edward leans forward, places his hands high up on my thighs, and swirls his thumbs in one slow, firm circle. My lips part automatically, and Edward leans in. "You smell even better when you're all wet."

My breathing halts, and I can feel the heat from his body so close to mine. His mouth brushes over my own briefly before he bites down, trapping my bottom lip between his teeth.

I long for him to tug on my lip, for him to yank me off the counter and into his arms, for him to push me back, smacking my head against the mirror, but he does none of these things.

Instead, he laughs.

"And you say I'm easy." Edward reaches backward and snags a towel for himself, running it over his hair. "Let's get out of here; I'll take you home."

I hide in the bathroom for a minute, trying to remember how to breathe. I put my shirt back on but hijack the towel. I am still so damn cold.

I meet Edward and his smug grin outside. He opens the car door for me and laughs when I thwack him "accidentally" with my towel on the way inside. I scowl and pout.

"Don't be such a poor loser."

"I'm not a loser. You're the—"

"Bella, hey, I didn't know you were here."

My stomach drops out from under me, and I turn my head ever so slowly to be met with Mike smiling at me as though he's so happy to see me. He probably is. Only problem is, up until now I sort of forgot that he even existed.

"Um, yeah, we found out about the party late today, so, yeah, we're here. Edward drove me because we're friends, and yeah."

"Why are you all wet?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Edward spits out.

"I fell in the pool. It was dumb. Just—I'm cold so we're gonna go, but I'll call you, okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

Just when I think I'm in the clear, Mike does the unexpected: he leans in and kisses me.

Right in front of Edward.

Edward gets in the car and starts it, immediately putting it in reverse. I'm amazed that Mike's able to close the door for me before Edward starts to speed away.

"Um, so . . ."

Edward's jaw tightens when I start to speak.

"Mike sorta asked me out last night, and I sorta said yes."

Edward's hands flex and strain on the steering wheel, his knuckles whitening with the force of his grip.

"We had our first kiss at the park last night, and I—"

"I can't listen to this, Bella." His tone is serious, but he needs to know what's going on, so I continue.

"But if you'd just hear me—"

He turns to look at me before speaking in a low, menacing voice. "Would you just shut up?"

"The whole time it was—I don't even know, and I just—I kept thinking about—"

"Shut up!" he bellows, and I clamp my mouth closed as he's asked.

I want more than anything to tell him that that's when I knew for sure that I had feelings for him, but I can't. He won't even listen to me anymore, and I've ruined everything.

Everything.

Edward pulls into my driveway and doesn't even put the car into park. I get out, and he zips away, speeding down the street before I'm even inside the house. We didn't even say goodbye.

I enter my home and, on instinct, slide down the door once it's closed, collapsing in a heap of tears.

"I'll kill him," Dad says, and Mom rushes to my side, a gentle hand on my hair.

"Honey, what is it? What's wrong? What happened?"

"I don't even know, but I'm not sure I can fix this."

**A/N:** Thanks for reading, reviewing, and spamming me on Twitter with gorgeous flirty pictures and music. Truly, it's all inspiring Dirtyflirtward's actions. So thanks!


	9. Chapter 9 Punish

**Take What You Want**

**Chapter 9**

**Word Prompt: Punish**

**Playlist: Break Your Heart by Taio Cruz**

**What Do I Have to Do by The Donnas**

**A/N: **Last chance to turn back, fluffers. Angst is ahead. You've been warned . . .

Even though I've been moved to the couch and it's been about ten minutes, I can't control my crying. I'm near hyperventilation. My throat's raw, and my breaths are erratic. Mom's eyes narrow in concern. She runs her fingers down my arm, patting my hand. "Breathe, Bella," she coaches. "Okay, Charlie, I need you to call—"

"No, you call 911, 'cause I'm going to rip his head off."

"Charlie, wait, no . . ."

The door slams, and my dad is gone. I'm too upset; I can't even be bothered to worry about the result of his leaving.

Mom pulls my phone from my purse, dialing Alice immediately, I'm sure. "Can you come over, honey? I need some reinforcements."

My mother briefly says her goodbye and helps me sit up since I've been slumping all this time.

Thirty minutes later I'm in my room and dressed in dry clothes. I'm still rubbing snot onto my shirt, but I feel better. I've purged everything – well, most everything. Mom and Alice were gracious and waited patiently as I sniffed and snorted through the whole sordid tale.

They brought me tissues and Advil and water and kept me comforted throughout.

"Honey, I think you really just need to tell him the truth," Mom says.

I open my mouth to make an excuse, but Alice stops me with a raised hand. "Edward can be very immature, and I know he'll probably _la, la, la_ with his fingers in his ears, but you have to tell him. It's better to do it now before this whole thing gets messier."

"That's true, and you don't want to hurt poor Mike. He's just an innocent bystander." Mom strokes my arm to soothe me.

"I really do like Mike," I say, feeling terrible for even allowing myself to continue being his girlfriend one more second when I know my heart belongs to Edward. "You're right, I have to tell him. Them. Both of them need to know the truth."

Mom nods her head and pats my leg standing up and stretching. "Well, I heard your father come in a while ago, so I'm just gonna leave you two . . ."

"Night, Mom."

"Goodnight, Renee."

Mom kisses us both on the forehead and leaves my room.

"Oh, I never thought she would leave," Alice says right after Mom closes the door. "You know I love your mother, I do. She's amazing. She's probably my best friend, right after you. I mean, I spend more time with her than my own mom, but I've been dying to know . . . how was the kiss?"

I slump over onto my bed and clutch my pillow. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" she wails, falling on top of my back. "What are you talking about? We talked about your kiss with Jake for two hours, and all I get from this insanely hot will-they-or-won't-they relationship of the century is _I don't know_? What's the matter with you?"

I push up with my arms, but she shoves me back down. "You're not getting out of this conversation; this is important."

"I'm trying to get up. Geez, you're bossy," I say, wiggling out from under her.

"I'm tired, and I may have had too much sugar before coming over here. I wasn't drinking, but I was doing Pixy Stix with Angela."

"Oh, I'm sad I missed that. I bet she got all jittery and started talking altar boys."

We giggle together, and then I sigh dramatically. I'm such a girl.

"Okay, last chance . . . how was the kiss?" Alice says, meaning business. She really wants to know.

I run my hand through my hair, trying to detangle the knots, and smile, my smirk growing as my eyes reach hers.

"I knew it! He's a good kisser, right?"

"Alice, I can't even . . . I mean, it wasn't even a kiss, really. He sort of touched my lips, like, just barely, smelling like some fruity drink, and then he bit me."

"He bit you? Ow."

"It was not _ow_. It was _so_ not ow. He slowly clamped down on my bottom lip with his teeth, like he owned it or something. Gah!" I fall over and let my arms flop over the side of the bed.

Alice joins me, and we face each other, our legs dangling.

"And what about Mike?"

"It was nice."

"It was vanilla." Alice makes a face, but I scowl back. I don't know how else to describe it.

"Oh, no, not you too."

"What's that mean?" Alice giggles.

"Edward thinks Mike is too vanilla. Too boring for me."

"Well . . ." Alice shrugs.

"I like him. Well, I thought I did. I mean, I guess I still do, but there's just not much there. There's no . . ."

"Passion," Alice says quickly.

"Yeah, and no . . ."

"Chemistry." She nods.

"And no . . ."

"Hot mess of a man to lick."

"Oh my gosh!"

Alice and I knock into each other and fall into a fit of giggles. We stay up late and concoct a plan. One that I think will work if Edward cooperates.

I really hope he does.

**-TWYW-**

"Hi, Daddy," I say. Alice left only fifteen minutes ago, so I'm in high spirits and hopeful for my day. I pour myself a bowl of Cheerios, humming. "Want one?"

"Sure." He motions to the cupboard, and I pull a bowl down for him. He grabs a spoon and sits beside me at the breakfast nook, and we dig in.

"You know I don't like to meddle, Bella, but—"

"Oh, no, what did you do? Did you hurt him?"

"No, no, it's fine sweetie; Edward set me straight."

"Well, good. I need to talk to him today, so that's good."

"Yeah, I had Edward all wrong. I feel bad about that now, but, I gotta say, this Michael kid's already rubbing me the wrong way. He's your boyfriend for one day and he throws you in the pool to see you wet in some indecent way? Good thing Edward was there to take care of you. I know what I said about him, but you keep him close; he's one of the good ones."

I can't stop staring at the three remaining cheerios in my bowl. I imagine Edward floating in my milk, holding onto one like a life raft. I want to swirl the bowl around, creating a tsunami and drown his ass. I can't believe him!

"You sure you like this Michael kid?" Dad's words are soft; he's really concerned.

"Dad, Edward tends to over exaggerate. Mike's a good guy. A great guy. He's smart and sweet, and he plans to be in politics someday."

"Well, that's all fine and dandy, but if he's gonna put my daughter in danger—"

"I was _not_ in danger," I grit out. I rip my dad's bowl from his hand before he's even done and slam it into the sink along with my own.

"Okay, but you know girls that defend their boyfriends a lot are usually found to be in abusive relationships, and as your father—"

"Mom!" I yell, not allowing my dad to finish this nonsense.

"What?" she calls from upstairs.

"Can I borrow your car?"

"Keys are in my purse."

"You're not going to go see Mike, are you? Because—"

"Oh, no." I laugh maniacally. "I'm going to see Edward."

"Oh, good. He was worried about you. I'm sure he'd like to talk to you."

"Oh, yeah. I can't wait to talk to him. He's such a good friend."

"Yeah, you said that. Your best friend, right?"

"You betcha."

**-TWYW-**

I barrel down the street, nearly running a stop sign, I'm so distracted. I want to kill him. Like really kill him. For real.

I park slanty in the middle of his driveway, and as soon as I slam my door start screaming his name. "Edward Cullen! Get out here, you, you, liar!"

The door opens, but the screen remains shut. "No soliciting," he shouts and laughs at his own joke.

"No soliciting? No _soliciting_! Are you kidding me? You essentially solicited my dad to be the good guy here. Mike's officially on his shit-list thanks to you."

"Your shoes are stupid," he says lazily.

I look down, and he's right. I slipped on my mom's bright orange Crocs that she uses for getting the mail. For some reason, it enrages me, and I scream, "You're stupid," as I throw my shoes one at a time at his screen door.

"You throw like a girl. Is that why you don't play sports? Why you're in all the _special_ clubs? 'Cause you have no real skills?"

"Oh, and you do, Mr. Underachiever?"

"I place second in the mile every year."

"You're not even in P.E!" I throw my arms out wide in exasperation.

Edward opens the screen and steps onto his driveway, the sun highlighting his messy auburn hair and showing off his sweaty, shirtless chest. Clearly, he ran with his dad this morning.

"I watch the stats, nitwit. I'm not in track, but I know where I'd place if I were. It's a waste of my time."

"Ooh, it's a waste of your time. Like taking the SATs or going to college. Edward's too smart for everyone around him, is that it?"

"Look at you, Miss High and Mighty, being a bit hypocritical, I see."

"Are you calling me a hypocrite?"

"Hell, yes," he says, taking a few steps closer and crossing his arms over his chest, showing off his biceps. I try really hard not to look, but he catches me and smirks, the bastard. "You act like I'm the bad guy, _oh, dating Jessica's so mean_, but you're dating Mike. Mike Freaking Want a Fig Newton, and you don't give a shit about him."

"That's not true!" I bellow.

"It is true. What's he like to do for fun, huh? Do you know? That's not surprising because he doesn't know how to have fun!"

I open my mouth to speak, but he continues on, pacing in front of me, hands locked in his hair. He's a maniac.

"What's his favorite thing to eat? What kind of music does he listen to? Better yet . . . what's he know about you, huh? Does he know you take a whole damn hour just to straighten your already straight hair and put on make-up you don't need? Does he know when you laugh, you do it in levels, the last one ending in leg cramps? Does he know when you're hot and turned on your cheeks turn pink and you inhale, holding your breath, making your boobs look amazing? Does he know any of that? 'Cause I doubt that he does." He stops and turns, his eyes on the ground, shoulders tight.

"Edward, I came here to tell you—"

His head snaps up, and he stiffens, his abdominal muscles clenching with the tension. "I can't hear this again, Bella!"

"Bella? Bella? Since when have I ever been Bella?" I march over to him and stand toe to toe with him, looking directly into his eyes. "It's always sweetness and honey pie and cheese doodle."

"I was just trying to make you mine!" he shouts.

"You're an idiot! I was coming here to yell at you and tell you that I am, but—"

"Like hell you are! If you felt for me the way I feel for you, you never would have—you kissed him right in front of me!"

"Oh, and you haven't kissed Jessica right in front of me a million times?"

"That was different!"

"Different? You're crazy."

"No, you're crazy. We're finally there, and then you drop this bomb on me, like . . . it's not right, Bella."

"Stop calling me Bella. The only time you call me Bella is when you're being nice. And you're not being nice; it's weird." I shake my head, infuriated with this stupid conversation. We're getting nowhere.

"What's weird is you kissing Mike Fig Newton."

"Will you stop calling him a cookie?"

"No, I won't because he's as ridiculous as his stupid name."

"He's not ridiculous. Mike is sweet"

Edward lets out a long, obnoxious fake yawn, and I stomp my foot.

He glares and tips his head my direction. "I'm sure Mike'll be real sweet. You two will just be the sweetest together. Won't it be sweet when he takes your virginity in the backseat of a car and you cry for hours afterward when you realize you've had sex with someone you don't love?"

Tears fall from my eyes, and I make no move to wipe them away. I stand firm and stare at Edward, letting his insult sink in.

"Go have your meaningless kisses and your meaningless relationship and pretend that it's something. I don't care anymore. I don't want you anymore."

"I hate you," I whisper, the words full of my fury.

"Good, I hate you too. I hate you for making me think the fantasy was worth it. For making me think that I could ever be like anyone you'd ever want."

"What are you talking about?"

"You think I've gotten to know you so well in just a few months? How stupid are you, Bella, really?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Like Alice didn't tell you," he sneers.

"Tell me what?"

"We made a trade, Emmett, that is . . . my sister for you."

"Wh-what?" I chew on my fingers, trying to quell my nerves.

"I told him about my sister's little problem, the real reason she graduated early, and it gave him a head's up. But I don't mind; he's good to her. He may even love her. And in exchange, he offered me an in with you – a place to hang out to get close to you, and, man, do I regret it. The fantasy was so much better than the reality."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying, you're not worth it. I shouldn't have wasted my time."

"Okay, good. I'm glad we got that in the open." I swipe my hand over my nose, wiping the snot away, feeling utterly rejected.

"Just trying to be honest," he says, his tone calm.

"Yeah, well, good luck sleeping at night, Edward. I hope you can find a new friend 'cause you've just lost one."

"Don't you worry about me; I've already got a new friend lined up for a date tonight."

I stare at my bare feet as I walk to the car. I get in, drive away, and end up at Alice's. I have no idea how I get there.

**-TWYW-**

After prying my weeping mess out of the car, Alice sets me down in her room, and she assures me that she had no idea what was going on. When Emmett gets home, Alice is waiting for him at the front door and brings him into her room by his ear. He confesses but tells me that Edward had the best intentions, that he wanted to get to know me, to see if we would hit it off, and according to Emmett, "You guys did, man. Sorry, but you did. I mean, you do. You're just fighting. Rose and I do it all the time. It's natural when there's so much passion involved."

"That's not passion; it's cruelty. It's like he wanted to punish me," I say.

"I'm not saying he wasn't being an asshole. I'm just saying he's hurting too; he's lashing out. Give it time," Emmett says, reaching out to touch me, but Alice smacks his hand away.

With those final words, Alice pushes him out the door and attempts to cheer me up with pizza and another Ryan Gosling movie. It reminds me of The Notebook which reminds me of Edward, and my crying jag begins again. I can't remember the last time I cried so hard. Probably when Jake left.

That night, I cry myself to sleep wrapped in the arms of my best friend, all the while wishing I was in the arms of my other best friend – my ex-best friend.

**A/N:** Thanks so much to cejsmom and _ss77_ for prereading. And thanks to everyone who reads, reviews, tweets, and catches me on facebook. Love you all.

I don't normally draw attention to the playlist, but the song Break Your Heart has a beautiful acoustic version. It's lovely and on my blog. Check it out. Link's on my profile under Take What You Wants Tidbits.


	10. Chapter 10 Seeking Approval

**Take What You Want**

**Chapter 10**

**Word Prompt: Punish**

**Plot Generator—Idea Completion: Seeking approval.**

**Playlist: I Hate Myself for Loving You by Joan Jett**

**Since U Been Gone by Kelly Clarkson**

I finish out the weekend hanging out at home with my mom. We do some yoga together "to calm my soul" according to Mom. Then we bake some brownies. Because isn't that exactly what everyone wants after exercise? To eat junk? I do.

Mom dances around the kitchen, belting out an old song that's playing on a forty-five record. I didn't even know we still had that old thing.

"_That's why I hate myself for loving you_ . . . come on, Bella, sing! It's good for you. Get it out!" Mom scoots over to me and bumps my hip, then hands me the spoon for my microphone.

I roll my eyes but dance all the same and scream out the chorus with her. It's a fun song to sing, especially when you're pissed at a man. Like I am. No, I take that back. He's a _boy_. A man would never have done what he did. Said the things he said.

Later in the evening, I hole up in my room listening to emo music and feel myself falling back into weak, weepy mode. I search through my CDs and pull out my old, trusty Kelly Clarkson.

Taking a lesson from my mom, I crank the volume, grab a hairbrush and shriek, letting out all my pain, all my fury, and convince myself I can move on.

Still feeling energized from yoga, sugar, and singing, I hold my head up high when I get to school Monday morning. I go about my day feeling good, confident.

Until I see him.

Kissing Lauren before French class.

He doesn't speak to me at all, though he still eats that damn melty cookie.

On the way to the cafeteria, I bump into Jessica, and she snaps at me. "You didn't have to tell him to change his locker combination. I'm not some crazy psycho."

"Okay," I say, though immediately wonder why she was trying to get into his locker. Then I wonder how many times he's had to change his combination. He must have some post-break-up protocol to deal with the aftermath.

Whatever, it's none of my concern. But at least she'll leave us alone now. I guess Edward was right about that, and I suppose it doesn't hurt that she thinks I had something to do with their break-up. Which technically, I suppose I did.

At lunch, Edward still sits with us like an ass, talking to everyone but me. It's then that I notice something. I originally pegged Edward as a flirt, giving every girl a nickname, which is true. Just not exactly how I thought he did. Alice becomes Ali, Jessica becomes Jess, Angela becomes Angie, etc.

Sure, I was right about the baby part: only girlfriends get dubbed baby. But me . . . well, I was every cute nickname in the book. Now I'm just Bella. Or, well . . . I am when he addresses me. Not that he has. In a while anyway.

Lunch is awkward and annoying, and what's worse is Mike is sitting with us too. And with Mike, comes Emmett since they're jock buddies or whatever. Emmett's constant judgmental looks irritate me, and I end up leaving lunch early. Just because he thinks I shouldn't be with Mike doesn't mean a thing. I can do whatever I want.

In Entrepreneurship, Edward is much the same, as he still won't talk to me.

At the end of the day, he's kissing Kate, and my stomach churns at the sight.

The week rolls by, and I've seen him kiss no less than six girls.

I confront him in Entrepreneurship on Friday, feeling sick to my stomach. I'm mad as hell, but part of me does want to fix this. I miss him.

I place my palms down on our table and angle my body toward him before speaking. "So, you're what? Going to punish me? For finding out too late that I have feelings for you?"

He doesn't respond. He stares blankly at his text, then turns the page.

"So you're just not going to talk to me? Real mature."

When I get home, I cry. Mom consoles me, but when Dad gets in for the night he accuses Mike of treating me poorly, and I go ballistic. Edward really convinced him that he's an angel. Nothing could be further from the truth.

I leave my mom to deal with Dad and head to bed. I'm tired. Have been all week.

**-TWYW-**

Saturday night I decide I need a pick-me-up, so I agree to go bowling with Mike and Alice and Jasper. It's our first official date as a couple. I'm a little nervous and still feeling sad, but I try to hide it since I never told Mike about any of the drama from the previous weekend.

Our game is in full swing, and I'm actually enjoying myself. Flirting with Mike is fun. He's loosened up since we've become boyfriend and girlfriend, but it's still not the same as what I have with Edward. What I _had_, I mean. I could never say something dirty around Mike, and I find myself resenting him for it. And getting pissed at myself for judging him when I should be judging myself instead.

Mike gets a strike, and I jump up, celebrating his victory. He shoots down the bowling pins with his fingers like such a geek, but I don't mind. I like this silly side of him. When he sits next to me, he pulls me onto his lap and wraps his arms around my waist. I feel his lips on my neck and tense up, the act too close to what Edward once did.

I take a deep breath and turn my head for a kiss. Mike indulges me, and Jasper kicks Mike's foot to get our attention since it's my turn.

I'm terrible at bowling. My ball goes straight down the gutter.

Mike coos, "That's alright. Good try. Not everyone's athletic." But I can barely hear him over the loud clapping and catcalling.

I turn slowly to see who it is, but I don't really need to. I'd know that obnoxious tone of voice anywhere.

"Nicely done, gutter queen."

Usually I like his nicknames, but the words feel like daggers to my heart now. I'd like to glare at Edward, but I can't because my attention is diverted to the tiny girl under his arm. Angela.

He sits next to Mike, patting a spot next to him for her. "You don't mind if we join your game, do you?"

Mike shakes his head, saying, "More the merrier." He's so nice. Too nice. I know he doesn't really care for Edward.

"Good man, Fig Newton." Edward slaps his back, harder than is friendly.

"Original," Mike quips.

"Yep, I'm one of a kind." Edward spreads his legs out, taking up an inordinate amount of space. The action forces me to step over his feet to get to my seat, which now has to be Mike's lap because there's nowhere else to sit.

I sit on Mike's knee, but he pulls me back into his lap.

"You two look cozy," Edward says.

"We are," Mike replies.

"Oh, good. We're cozy too." He turns to look at Angela with a flirtatious smile. "Right, baby?"

Kill me. Now.

Angela squeaks out a "Yeah" and waves at Alice and Jasper as a greeting. She simply smiles at me.

The idea of him using this poor girl to get back at me makes me livid, and I can't keep my mouth shut.

"Edward, can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure, cheese doodle."

I grind my teeth and stomp my way to the pool tables.

"You can't do this," I blurt.

"Aw, I liked cheese doodle. I thought that was a clever one you came up with." His grin is obnoxious, and I want to smack it off his gorgeous face.

"You've crossed the line. That little girl will be heart broken when you dump her."

"Who says I'm going to dump her?"

"This isn't a game. Not to her."

"It's not a game to me either. In fact, I like her."

"She's sweet and naïve and innocent and religious—"

"And she kisses like one of Satan's angels. If I would've known earlier, I wouldn't have wasted my time on—"

"Forget it. Whatever. This is on your conscience."

"Glad we cleared that up," he says, smiling and shoving his hands in his back pockets. He sways slightly, like he's playing. He's infuriating.

"At least she's not a tramp, like those other whores you paraded around school this week."

"Like I'm seeking approval."

"Like I'd give it to you."

He takes a step closer, peering into my eyes, looming over me. "Oh, you'd give it to me. If I really wanted it."

His words hold much too much meaning. And it hurts. His words are awfully cruel tonight, and I can't take it.

I shake my head and walk away. His behavior is disgusting, and I feel lucky that I got out of that relationship relatively unscathed.

I return to Mike and ask him to take me home. While I wait for him to use the bathroom, I scan the room. Angela and Edward have begun playing pool. They're laughing, and his hands are on hers, showing her how to hold the stick and line it up. I want to feel sorry for her, but I don't. I want to _be_ her. And no matter how much I wish I could, I can't take my eyes off of them.

Angela hits the ball and squeals, throwing her arms around Edward, hugging him. It's then that he sees me. His eyes narrow as he takes me in. He frowns, and I realize my cheeks are wet with my tears.

"You ready?" Mike asks.

I sniff and wipe my damp face quickly with one hand so that he can't see.

"Yeah, let's get out of here."

He grabs my hand, and I look up one last time, only to be caught in Edward's intense gaze.


	11. Chapter 11 Abstain, Complain, Maintain

**Take What You Want**

**Chapter 11**

**Word Prompts: Abstain, complain, maintain**

**Playlist: Hope it Gives You Hell by All-American Rejects**

**The One That Got Away by Katy Perry**

With only a few days before Spring Break, I do my best to ignore Edward. I'm not very good at it though for a number of reasons.

One, being that his date with Angela wasn't just a date. They are a couple now. Just great.

Two, somehow – I don't know how – Angela has some spell on Edward, and he's quite nice around her. He seems to have learned some manners in just the few days they've been together. Watching it – them – makes me jealous. He was never nice to me. Not really. Then again, he was never my boyfriend either.

Three, that stupid boy showers regularly now and smells fantastic, much to my dismay.

While watching him eat his cookie in French, I'm practically salivating even though his fingernails need a good trim. It makes me livid that he affects me this way. I have a boyfriend, dammit. I'm not supposed to feel this way, but I do. And the fact that I think he's hot even with his nasty fingernails really makes me want to hurl.

As I walk with Alice and Jasper to lunch, Edward's in front of us, his arm around Angela. I actually make a noise of disgust when Mike sidles up next to me.

"What's that all about?" he asks.

"Oh, nothing, Alice was just telling me about her mom's dumb rules."

And now I'm a liar. Perfect.

Alice side eyes me, and Jasper laughs quietly. At least my friends don't rat me out.

Picking at my sandwich, I watch my friends and Edward and Angela. Okay, I'm really only watching Edward and Angela. Mike's chatting with Emmett and a few of his other jock friends that stopped by our table, so he's not paying attention.

Edward's laughing at something Angela said, and to shut him up she puts a grape in his mouth. It's totally something I would've done, and it shakes me a bit. I should be doing those things.

Edward chews thoughtfully and places a grape on her tongue in some sort of lunchroom seduction. I watch in horror as he does so, wanting it to be me, so I give my inner-bitch some room to stretch. "Ew, you're gonna let those fingers into your mouth?"

"Oh, I—" Angela says, embarrassed.

"Like you're one to talk," Edward says, turning to face me.

"My fingers aren't grungy. Just look at your nails. How hard is it to cut them, really? Your mother would be embarrassed. In fact, I know she is."

"It would take me two seconds to take care of this," he says, wagging his fingers in my face. "But this . . ." He holds up my hand, twisting my wrist awkwardly so I can see my fingers. My nails are ragged, and my cuticles are torn up from my constant finger chewing. "This is a nasty habit you'll probably never break. You look like a freaking leper."

"Edward, I think Bella was just kidding—" Angela says, sticking up for me.

"Well, I wasn't." Edward gets up abruptly, and Angela follows him with a sad frown directed at me.

What just happened?

And more importantly, damn, I miss fighting with him.

**-TWYW-**

Spring Break is upon us. Mike and I see each other occasionally, going on a few lunch dates and hanging out with Alice and Jasper.

Unfortunately, when we do that, Edward sometimes makes an appearance. While Jasper has sided with myself and Alice, Emmett has held strong and insists that if he's there – when we're hanging out at the McCarty's home – his friend can be there too. After what he said about Edward – agreeing that he was being an asshole—I suspect that this has more to do with Rosalie than with Emmett being a good friend.

Whatever.

It's eight-ish, and Mike and I are on our way to the McCarty's. Alice decided to throw an old-school Mike Meyers movie marathon. I'm not sure how Mike's going to take this as he's more of an action movie kind of guy. But, we'll see . . .

When we arrive, my teeth clench as Edward gets out of his mother's van.

"Nice ride," Mike says, laughing, and Edward flips him the bird.

"Hi, Bella," Angela says softly from my side. I didn't even know she was there; the tiny thing snuck up on me.

I wave, and Mike catches my hand as it falls to my side, entwining our fingers. Edward stares at our hands briefly, then calls to Angela, "Let's go inside, baby."

I am really starting to hate that word.

Alice provides us with snacks, trying to keep things civil, but unfortunately her dumbass sits on Jasper's lap in the oversized chair, leaving us other couples to sit on the couch. That's not awkward or anything. Geesh.

We start with I Married an Ax Murderer, and Edward is not holding back. He's throwing his head back in laughter and really loving the movie. Seeing his smile and hearing his goofy noises is seemingly contagious because before long I'm just as loud, cracking up hysterically when Mike Meyers shouts, "Heed! Pants! Now!"

There are tears in my eyes, and my legs are starting to get tight, and, dammit, I know Edward's right about the leg cramping thing and my loud laughter. I haven't ever made the correlation before.

I rub my right thigh, and Edward's eyes dart to my hand. He smirks and nods his head to Mike who's oblivious and also asleep. Like a jackass he mouths, "Want help?"

I roll my eyes and set my attention back on the movie.

When the credits roll, Mike gets up and stretches, his lower abs coming into view. He's got a nice body – a jock's body. I take a peek and catch Edward catching me. This is so weird.

"I gotta lift tomorrow; I should go," he says.

"No, we just started," Alice whines.

Emmett clomps into the living room, Rose following behind. He steps up to a massive bowl of chips and digs in. "Vhat'r vee vatching?"

"Nice, Emmett," Rosalie comments.

I swivel my head to get an eyeful of her. I haven't seen her since she was in school. She looks much the same, except maybe a little harsher, not that that makes sense.

"Wayne's World," I say absently.

Emmett shrugs and sits down on the floor.

"I should go too; I have church in the morning," Angela says.

Edward scratches his head and makes that dumb face he makes when he doesn't like what's been said. "You don't wanna stay for another one?"

"I should really go," she reiterates.

"You're staying right, Bella?" Rosalie asks, and I don't even get to respond before she starts up again. "Why don't you take her home, Mike? Edward can bring Bella home; he's got the van."

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess," Mike says, rubbing his arm, clearly not wanting to piss off Rose. She's got a bit of a reputation as a bitch, and from what I've witnessed – though it was in the past – it's deserved.

**-TWYW-**

I sit through most of Wayne's World without too much interaction with Edward though our hands brush when he passes the popcorn. I ignore it; he doesn't. He obnoxiously smears his greasy hand all over my own. Ew.

Wayne and Garth are ordering Asian food to-go when Wayne makes a joke about cream. My thoughts drift back to my own jokes about creaming Edward. Oh, boy. I try to maintain my composure, to be cool, but when Edward snaps his head to the side with a lopsided grin I lose it, cracking up hysterically. He laughs with me and pulls my legs onto his, massaging my thighs for me so they don't spasm.

I want to complain.

This is highly inappropriate.

I should complain.

But I just can't.

It feels good.

Edward's hands on me.

. . . And now I wish they were roaming higher.

Dammit.

I do the right thing, pulling my legs underneath me, but before long, I'm laughing so hard again, and I can feel the spasms coming on.

I go to the kitchen to "get a drink" and do some stretches there. I move back and forth from triangle pose to warrior pose but just don't seem to be getting the full lengthening I need. I position myself in the middle of the small kitchen and do some runner's lunges, trying to work out the kinks in my quads. It feels so good to move after being trapped on that small couch all night, so I drop into down dog, stretching my calves as well. I moan, through my exhale, loving the way it makes me feel energized. My mother would be so proud.

I drop my head to the ground, stretching a bit further when I hear a loud intake of breath and a "Dammit, Bella!"

"What?" I say, ducking my head under my legs getting into standing forward bend.

"You're trying to kill me, woman." Edward starts digging around in his pants pocket, and I start giggling.

"Don't rub it out here."

Edward shakes his head laughing, and I stand.

"Oh, no, as you were, please." He pushes my back and tries to fold me over while fumbling with his phone. "Okay, almost there, just . . . twist this way, and then . . ."

Edward steps back and snaps a picture of me hunched over in some version of his yoga-girl fantasy, I suppose.

"Oh, yeah, that's a keeper," he says, grinning. "What on earth are you doing anyway? Not that I mind." He reaches around me and pulls a glass from the cupboard. He thinks he's at home anywhere, I guess. So rude. But, also, sort of endearing.

"I was stretching. My legs were getting all—"

"Ah, yeah, say no more. You need to drink more water, and you probably have some vitamin deficiency. It's potassium, I think. For leg cramps, right? Get some bananas or something."

"That's not right. Potassium and bananas?"

"It is _so_ right."

"Give me your phone; I'll check it."

"No," he says, clutching his phone to his chest.

"Give it to me."

"No."

"Give it to me."

"I like this game. Say it again, Bella." He smirks, but two can play at this game.

I walk up to him, and place my hands on his hips. We're face to face. "Give. It. To Me," I say in my breathiest, porn star voice. While he's in his hormonal stupor, I snag the phone and take a step away. I barely get it on when he grabs a hold of it. "Stop!"

I tug it away and slide the lock open. I'm greeted with a startling image. I'm in Edward's arms, back to his chest, my head thrown back in laughter. He's looking down on me, smiling like a loon.

"Why do you have to be such a brat!" He pulls the phone away from me like a petulant child.

"Oh, good, you two made up," Emmett says, grabbing a bag of chips off the counter.

"We didn't," I say.

Edward adds to the conversation with, "Not until she apologizes."

Rose enters the kitchen and smacks Edward upside the head. "What did I say about that?"

"Stay out of it, Rose." _And_ . . . now he _sounds_ like a petulant child too.

"I'm going home," I say.

"Fine, let's go."

"I'm not going with _you_." I couldn't possibly have said that with any more disdain in my voice.

"Well, seeing as Emmett's with Rose and Jasper and Alice are playing tonsil hockey in the next room, I'd say you are."

"Yippee, the mom-mobile."

"Oh, shut up." He pulls his keys from his pocket and puts his glass in the sink.

"You, shut up."

Emmett mumbles something behind us, sounding like, "At least they're talking again."

**-TWYW-**

The ride is silent except for the blaring music Edward insists on. I really don't feel like listening to pop, but what am I going to do? Touch his radio? I don't think so. If I were to touch anything, it would be his brakes because he's going twenty over the speed limit.

"Do you mind slowing down?" I ask. It's so annoying that I even have to ask that. Doesn't he care about my safety?

"Yes, I do."

"And you call me a brat."

"If you must know, I gotta piss, all right." He wiggles his butt, looking like a kid who's about to wet himself. Nice.

"Then piss; I don't care."

"Fine." Edward pulls the van off the side of the road and gets out. There's a faint sound of a zipper and then splattering fluid.

Oh my gosh . . .

Edward gets back in the car, and to my surprise fumbles around, locating an old water bottle that he uses to wash his hands. That's good to know. Surprising, but good to know. That at least he has some good hygiene habits. Then again, he hasn't smelled nasty at all since he's been calling Angela baby. Lucky bitch.

I am going to hell.

And if I'm going there might as well go there in style . . .

"That was sweet of you to water the road like that," I say in a sugary sweet voice.

"What can I say? I'm a sweet guy." He nods and gives me a close lipped smile. I want to hit him. So I do. Hard. With my words.

"So sweet. Angela's sweet too."

"She is," he agrees, nodding.

"You two will just be the sweetest together. Won't it be sweet when you take her virginity in the backseat of a car and you cry for hours afterward when you realize you've had sex with someone you don't love?"

Edward turns, scowling but doesn't say anything. He looks downright sad for the rest of the drive, and I feel terrible.

I don't want to apologize, though; he deserves it.

I will not apologize.

I will be firm.

I will abstain.

"I'm so sorry; that was just awful. I don't mean that. I can tell she really likes you, and who knows? Maybe you're telling the truth. Maybe you do like her. And I am so sorry, Edward, truly sorry. I shouldn't have let you even touch me after you threw me in that pool. I feel wretched about it, and I can't stop playing that night over and over in my head, and I wish—I just wish everything was different, but it's not, and now we have to deal with the consequences."

Edward says nothing but sighs.

"Is it too late now? I mean, we're both in a relationship, but I—can't we at least . . . at least just be friends, like we used to be?"

He runs a hand through his hair, and my stomach clenches with the sting of rejection.

"Stop the car," I blurt.

"What?" he spits out.

"Stop the car."

"No, we're almost there."

"Stop the car!" I reach for the emergency brake and get a good grip, but I don't need it because Edward slams on his brakes.

I hurl myself out of the car and run.

"You're insane. What the hell are you doing?" he hollers.

_I will not cry_, I tell myself, and I don't, but I sure do run fast. Edward tackles me, throwing me over into a patch of grass at a strip mall.

"Get back in the car, you fruit loop."

I refuse to get up, and Edward drags me back to the car, kicking and screaming. A few cars slow and roll their windows down. I'm sure this all looks very safe for me. No one even stops. People are assholes.

Edward folds me in half and shoves me with all his might into my seat, but I get my foot on the door just in time to keep him from accomplishing his goal. The jolting force of my foot in the door, makes us keel over, and my face smacks on the pavement with a crack.

"Shit!" Edward yells, then leans into me, his legs on top of mine. "Bella? Oh, shit, shit, shit."

I start to laugh.

Edward does too.

And when I roll over and present him with a piece of my chipped tooth, we laugh so hard my legs start to cramp up.

**A/N:** Take What You Want is on The Lemonade Stand poll for Fic of the Week. I'd love your vote if you find this story uber compelling and not stinky like Edward. Poll's not officially up yet, but I will post a link on my profile and blog when it's available.

Thanks to my twitter peeps and prereaders for getting me through my writer's block this week. It was ugly. They're pretty.

Thanks to aidan_momma - who spams me like no other - I've added a song to last chapter's playlist. Normally, I wouldn't even say anything, just add it, but this one needs to be pointed out. It's called Bowling Ball by Superchick, and it's on the blog. I couldn't not add it. I mean, it's Bowling Ball, and she was just in a bowling alley, and yeah . . . listen to it. You won't regret it. Just FYI, while I "made" pretty picteases for Masen Days, I am not doing that now. Each image comes courtesy of the internet and is posted as is. I like them for myself, so I share them. Hope you enjoy them too. Hope you enjoy this!


	12. Chapter 12 Crooked

**A/N: VERY IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE THAT REQUIRES SHOUTY CAPS! TAKE WHAT YOU WANT IS ON THE LEMOADE STAND POLL RIGHT NOW FOR FIC OF THE WEEK. A VOTE FOR DIRTYFLIRTWARD IS A VOTE FOR ANOTHER MELTY COOKIE SEDUCTION. THE LINK TO VOTE IS ON THE TOP OF MY PROFILE PAGE AS WELL AS ON MY BLOG. THANKS!**

**Take What You Want**

**Chapter 12**

**Word Prompt: Crooked**

**Audio-Visual Challenge—Imagined Image: Picture of an orange traffic cone on a frozen lake. **

**Playlist: Trouble by Never Say Never**

**My Life Would Suck Without You by Kelly Clarkson**

Edward calls me every hour on the hour to apologize for chipping my tooth. What he doesn't realize is I'd give anything for him to apologize for being a jerk and saying those awful things he didn't mean.

I certainly believed him when he said them but seeing the picture of the two of us on his phone – as his freaking wallpaper – confirmed the fact that he's a lying liar that lies. I should've known this already, though.

Alas, I am stupid.

And still mad. As much as I'd love to just let things go back to normal, they can't. Not really. Not until we address his behavior. I apologized – rightly so – I had no business letting him touch me and kiss me when I was Mike's girlfriend. The whole thing is just so messed up, but I still want a connection with him. _Any_ connection with him. I know it's pathetic, but I'll take what I can get. I just hope that my apology will influence him to say sorry as well. If he doesn't, I'm not sure we can get past this.

My phone chirps with another text from him. I stopped answering it at midnight because I wanted to sleep, and it was annoying. But he didn't take the hint and kept calling. I think I have six or seven voice mails and about nine texts. Each one gets progressively worse, as in stupid.

_Are you still mad at me?_

_I said I was sorry, brat._

_Why can't you let it go?_

_It's your fault you ran like a crazed psycho._

_My mom says I should stop bugging you. Is that true? I don't want to because I like to think about how pissed off you look when you pick up your phone._

_And it's me._

_Again._

_I can't wait to make fun of you on Monday. You look like a hick._

Each text makes me laugh. He's so dumb, but it's nice to be a part of his life again. I really did miss him. I roll over on my bed and check my latest text.

_Okay, I'm sorry. I mean it. I took a shower. I even cut my fingernails. TALK TO ME!_

It's time to take pity on him, so I write him back.

_No, thanks. I'm going to bed. And I'm naked. _

His response is immediate.

_ljflgu;oirnvlfkvnidfg;kjfgl[090956[e'seglk!_

I cover my face with my pillow to muffle my laughter. My phone beeps again.

_Goodnight, sexy girl._

_Oh, so now I'm sexy, am I?_

_You've always been sexy._

_You're such a liar. What about Angela and Jessica?_

_What about them? I only think about one girl. My girlfriend, Bella._

I sit up and gape at my phone.

It's Mike.

Oh my gosh . . .

In my haste to cover, I type a quick message.

_Good, that's what I was hoping for. Goodnight. _

I toss my phone in my nightstand and promise not to touch it again. I can't believe I did that.

**-TWYW-**

I'm snacking after Saturday morning yoga with Mom when the doorbell rings. Edward's at my door. What is he doing here? Maybe he's here to apologize. For real. But I can't count on that, so I say, "Hey," and take a bite of my banana.

He looks me up and down and throws himself backward onto the walkway as though he's fainted.

"What are you doing?" I say through laughter.

"Shh, I don't want to forget this moment."

"What moment?" I step between his legs and bend over him, my banana peel dangling in his face.

"Why do you have to ruin everything?" he asks, swatting my peel away.

"I don't. You do. Besides, I already apologized. You—"

"I apologized like fifty million gajillin times."

"For my tooth," I say, giving him a cheesy grin and helping him up.

"Yeah." He shrugs. "So . . . you stopped answering your phone."

"That's what my dad said to do if I was being stalked."

"Ha ha, funny. So, _anyway_ . . ." His face is mockingly stern. "You're coming with me to the airport."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"I'm all sweaty, and I need to shower, and—"

"The only one that cares about showers is you."

"You really believe that, don't you?"

"If you need to change, change." He points to my bare midriff then looks away quickly.

**-TWYW-**

After an embarrassing conversation where my mother compliments me on my figure and flexibility in front of Edward, I shower and get ready, much to his annoyance.

At the airport I discover Edward's love of strange places to eat, strange things to do, and strange people to watch.

I eat some yummy macaroni and cheese while he indulges in three sliders with sweet potato fries.

"Where's Angela? Shouldn't you be with her?"

"Devotional," he says through a mouth full of fries.

"That's . . . well, I can't make fun of that. Good for her. Getting spirit-ified or . . . whatever."

"Did you know this is the only Fred's Grill?"

"Nope."

"Best sliders in the state," he says, nodding to his plate where the remains of his sliders reside.

We spend the rest of the meal chatting about nothing important, but our dynamic isn't quite right. It's weird, but that's to be expected since he's being too chicken poo to really talk about what we need to talk about.

We walk aimlessly around the airport, window shopping for no reason. I try on some sunglasses and seeing my chipped tooth gives me an idea. I speak with the store clerk and collect some supplies then steal Edward away from the Maxims.

I hand him a small cardboard box. "Okay, rip this part off," I say, showing him the top of it. He does, and I write one word on it. _Homeless_.

I pull my ponytail holder out and ruffle my hair. I hold the sign in front of me and let my mouth hang open so my teeth are visible. Edward guffaws openly before pulling me by the hand and finding a place for me to sit.

He reads a discarded magazine within viewing distance and cracks a smile when I occasionally get up to tap dance in hopes of catching a few bucks from passersby.

I've just collected a dollar when Edward rushes me. "Security, come on, come on," he chants, tugging me by the arm. We pass a corner and double over in laughter as the overweight guard walks past us.

I catch my breath and fix my hair while watching Edward's shoulders shake with quiet laughter.

"You look so dumb," he says, and the laughter begins again. "Allons-y."

"Oui, oui, mon petit chou chou."

He keeps giggling as we head to the elevators. He's absolutely adorable when he laughs like this, eyes crinkling in the corners. He looks open somehow, reachable in a way. I love him like this. I want him to always be like this.

"I don't really wanna go home," I say, and he looks me over carefully.

"Hmm, okay, 'cause I have a idear." He smiles with his top teeth, and I copy him, so we look like a bunch of buck tooth losers.

Edward sticks me on a moving walkway, and then power walks beside me. I can't remember the last time I had this much fun. Probably the last time I was with Edward.

At the end of the walkway, Edward snags a "wet floor" sign and two orange cones.

"That's wrong," I say, thinking about all the poor slobs that will slip on the wet spot.

"Oh, and stealing money from strangers pretending to be homeless isn't a little crooked?"

"I'll donate it," I say, defending myself, but really I wanted to buy a shake.

"It's dry; I checked it. Come on, hurry." He looks over his shoulder to make sure no one's watching us.

He ushers me down the wide hall, and we place the cones and sign near a McDonald's. Then we sit and watch.

McDonald's gets a lot more traffic than I ever could've imagined.

We giggle like fools while people of every size, shape, and color go out of their way to step around the cones. One man even slips near the sign, and Edward and I lose it in laughter since there's no reason he should've slipped.

Our shoulders knock together, and Edward slides his hand into mine. I don't want to, but I look at our hands together. It's beautiful and feels so right. And different from the other times he's held my hand. He sighs as he catches his breath and knocks his head on the wall behind him. "Hey," he says.

"Yeah?"

"I'm really sorry," he says, eyes closed, and I know exactly what he's talking about. It's not the epic groveling seen in a movie, or even very profound, but it's perfect for Edward and me. It's just what I need.

"Thank you." I squeeze his hand to let him know how glad I am to be here with him.

"I really like her, you know."

"I thought so," I say and play with his fingers.

I probably shouldn't be doing that since I'm Mike's girlfriend, but there's just something about Edward that draws me to him. Yet at the same time, there's something about Mike that appeals to me too. He's straightforward and motivated and clean-cut. Everything I thought I wanted in a guy, and I feel like I have to give that a chance – see if it works. I owe it to the both of us. It doesn't help either that I've been crushing on him since last year, and I hadn't even given a second thought to Edward until he started hanging out with us over winter break. The whole situation is exhausting, so I decide to give it some breathing room. We all just need to _be_ for a while, I think, and that's what I hope to convey when I say, "We'll just have to see what happens."

"Yeah, I guess." He says it like an exhale, bringing his head level and finally looking at me. "I'm glad you're talking to me again."

"I'd never stop talking to you."

He smirks and says, "That's because I'm irresistible." He pinches my cheek and tugs my ponytail.

**-TWYW-**

I'm coming out of the lunch line when a hand settles on my waist. "Hey, you," I say, and I'm surprised when I turn around and see Mike. This is really getting confusing.

"Hey, oh, you didn't get your tooth fixed. I thought—"

"Nope, you thought wrong." I take my seat with our friends, sitting across from Edward. "You like it, right?" I give him a dorky smile, and he sits beside me, looking worried. "I'm going to the dentist next Monday."

"It's been two weeks; why so long?" he asks.

"I kinda think it's funny," I say.

"I just love her," Edward says, pointing at me, and Angela nods in agreement, smiling. She's very cute in a little sister kind of way.

I laugh at Edward's words, thinking about my homeless sign which he stole after our excursion to the airport.

"You're a trip, Bella," Mike says, digging into his sandwich.

"That's why you like me."

"I think you're right; you always make things fun." He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively and leans in for a kiss.

Moments like these, where Mike is okay with public affection are few are far between, and I generally don't mind them; however, when Edward's around, they make me nervous.

Instead of kissing him, I give him my best buck tooth grin to dissuade him. It works, thankfully.

Angela throws away her trash, then stands next to Edward playing with his hair. "You ready?" she asks him.

"Yeah, baby." He grips the back of her jeans and follows her out the door with a wave.

"Is it just me, or is he different with her?" Jasper asks.

"It's not just you," Mike says. "He's like a human being now."

Alice and I exchange a look. We've been talking about Edward and Angela a lot lately, not sure what to think about them. Edward assured me that he just really likes her. Which is good, I guess.

"I don't know. I don't think it's right the way he's changed for her. I kinda like stupid Edward," Emmett says.

"You would," I quip.

"Like you didn't like him all hyper and dumb," he says, throwing a chip at me, but Mike defends me by blocking it with his plate.

That's when the food fight begins. It lasts approximately fifteen seconds before we're shooed out of the cafeteria.

Oh, well.

**-TWYW-**

We're all at the park playing volleyball together – four against four. Alice and Emmett refused to be on a team together, so Mike and I are paired with Alice and Jasper, which is fine, except that I have to watch Edward the whole time.

He's laughing and playing hard and throwing Angela around like a rag doll every time she does something right. Which is often. Why does she have to be athletic when I'm not? Sure, I have good balance and can strike a mean yoga pose, but that doesn't equate to being able to bounce a hard ball off my wrist and over a net.

After the third time I get hit with the ball, I call it quits and hide out in the ramada. Edward joins me soon after for a water break. He sits beside me on the table and bumps my shoulder. "Why aren't you playin'? he asks.

"I'm done getting hit in the face with balls."

"Okay, I . . ." He tilts his head and smiles wide. "I'm not even gonna touch that one."

"Good for you, Edward. Growing up finally, I see."

"You wish," he says.

And that I can't let go. "Hardly."

"Aw, you do love me, ball girl."

"Whatever."

We sit in silence, watching the others mess around in between games. Emmett throws Rose over his shoulder and takes off running. It reminds me of Edward immediately, and I wonder if he'll ever throw me around the way he does all his girls.

"Can I ask you a question?" I ask, chewing on my fingers.

With his lips around the water bottle, he simply raises his brow.

"You said 'that was different' when I mentioned you kissing Jessica in front of me while you were dating. What does that mean? How was it different?"

"You wanna talk about this now?" he asks, pointing to our friends.

I think on it for a second but worry I won't have to courage to ask again, so I say, "Why not?" to make him feel like a chicken.

"Fine, well, she was just a whatever. I didn't care about her at all. And she knew that – even when I asked her out – I was very specific. And she was specific too. She was basically using me – 'always wanted to try out Edward Cullen,'" he says in a girl's voice.

"She did not say that." I place my elbows on my knees and study the concrete, so I don't draw attention to my quiet laughter.

"She did. I didn't know how you felt, and you wanted to get rid of her, so I just thought, whatever, ya know. But I knew as soon as she dumped me, or as soon as you admitted we had something, that I'd dump her to be with you."

"But why were you so mad at me?"

"Look, I know I was a jerk to Jessica. I flirted with you all the time, but I never kissed you, never cheated. You were with Mike, and you let me kiss you, let me think I had a chance. I was pissed. You knew how I felt all along. I always wanted to be with you, and I didn't hide that. You did."

"I wasn't hiding it," I say shamefully. "I just didn't know."

"Well . . . it is what it is." He slouches beside me and nudges my knee with his.

"Edward, come play!" Angela waves him over, and he runs to her, picking her up by the waist and running her around the sand like she's a football. It's so hard not to feel sorry for myself, but I have Mike. And I want to make that work. I will try to make that work.

**-TWYW-**

"Hi," I say, opening my door wide to Mike so he can come in. It's date night: Saturday. The one night for sure I know I'll see him because there's no sports and no student council meetings.

He squints his eyes and forces a laugh, rubbing his arm. "I thought you said you'd be ready. Last time I missed the previews because I was standing in line for your popcorn."

"I'll just be a minute." I kiss him on the cheek, and he forces another smile before sitting on my couch to wait.

I stay upstairs a bit longer than needed because my dad is wandering around the house, and it's always fun when they end up talking. Dad is not friendly with Mike. Like at all. I know it should bother me, but it makes me laugh, really.

At the movies I get bored. There's only so many times I can watch an explosion. I go to the restroom and come back to see the end of the action sequence I just left. Damn, John Woo. I have to do something about my boredom, so I lure Mike into a kiss.

We make out for the last twenty minutes which is much more entertaining than that dumb movie with too many guns and too much cleavage.

In my driveway I lean over to give Mike a thank you kiss for our date, but he pulls me closer, my stomach digging into the stick shift awkwardly. Mike groans and grips my thigh, breathing heavily on my neck. "Do you want, I mean . . . can we get in the backseat?"

Oh my gosh . . .

It's my turn to force a smile this time. At least I got my tooth fixed and he's not grimacing anymore every time my teeth come into view. "I should go in; it's late," I say, then kiss him again with much less tongue than I've been using.

"Okay, yeah." He grips my face in his hands and kisses me hard. It's difficult to think when my hormones are raging like this, but I know I need to go inside. This is just too much, and I know I could never sleep with him when I still like Edward. It's just wrong. In fact, this whole thing is feeling more and more wrong the more I let it go on.

I break off our kiss, catching my breath. "Mike . . ." I start, hoping to say the words I should have said after our first kiss.

"I know; I'm sorry. Just one more." He kisses me one last time tenderly, and the sweet smile on his face afterward breaks my resolve. "Hey, um . . . will you go to prom with me?"

"Prom?" Well, that was unexpected.

"Yeah." He nods and grabs my hand, placing it on his heart, stroking it.

"Sure," I say.

And regret it immediately.

**A/N:** Special thanks to cejsmom, _ss77_, aidan_momma, and msjxteller for prereading this baby. And if you're wondering aidan_momma and msjaxteller are the genius behind 90% of the playlist. They rock!

I made a silly blinkie for this story. It's on the blog if you want to take a looksee.

Dirtyflirtward's waiting at The Lemonade Stand for you! He's sad and lonely there and low on the totem pole. Bring him a cookie to cheer him up, will you?


	13. Chapter 13 Song

**Take What You Want**

**Chapter 13**

**Word Prompt: Song**

**Playlist: Do You Love Her by Jeremy Ashida**

**Too Bad About Your Girl by The Donnas**

**Here in Your Arms by Hellogoodbye**

Prom posters litter the walls at school, and it's all anyone can talk about. Alice is thrilled that she can finally go and drags me shopping for accessories. I already have a dress – a vintage hand-me-down from my grandmother, so all I need are a few baubles.

As Alice slips on a bracelet, she talks Jasper. "I can feel it, you know. Like when you get that first kiss. It's coming. He's going to say it."

"I hope so . . . because then my world will be complete." I finger a necklace then set it back down.

"Oh, you be quiet. Be happy for me. I'm happy for you. Oh, wait, no I'm not because your life is in the crapper." She moves around the counter to the other side picking up various rings and things.

"I know. I was going to break up with him. I just couldn't. I don't . . . it's like, I can act like a bitch, but I'm not a bitch. He didn't do anything wrong."

"That's because he doesn't _do_ anything. Seriously, Edward's right. The guy's a dud."

"What? You were talking to Edward about Mike?"

"Who doesn't Edward talk to about Mike? He was over gaming with Emmett the other day; they were calling him a douche, I believe. I think it's kind of rude, really, considering Mike and Emmett play so many sports together. But whatever. Guys are dumb . . . except Jasper."

"Yes, except Jasper," I say, agreeing with my friend. He is one of the good ones.

I pick up a necklace full of sparkles and fake pearls. I think it might be perfect for my dress. I hold it up for Alice to see, and she nods enthusiastically.

"So, it's official," Alice says, catching my eyes. "My uncle was having an affair. We got a wedding invitation this week, and guess who's in the picture? That slutty secretary with the big boobs."

"No, way. He was so sweet. Oh, I love Uncle Jeremy. I can't imagine him ever—"

"I know. Both Emmett and I swore that he wasn't, but my mom said Aunt Amber kept saying, 'I know. A woman knows'."

"How did she know?"

"She said that she knew he liked his coworker, and that was fine until he started complaining about her." She switches into a mock voice of her aunt's. "You don't complain about someone of the opposite sex without there being passion involved."

"Wow," is all I say.

"So I guess that's when she knew he was on his way to having an affair. Crazy, huh? Why can't guys just be faithful?"

"I dunno." I shrug, though feel guilty immediately for all of the feelings I have for Edward.

"Ooh, let's hit the shop on the second floor." Alice's eyes grow wide with excitement. She is such a shopper. "I think they have a whole wall of pearly things that might go with your necklace, and maybe I can find something for myself there too."

"Yes, we need to find something so beautiful that when Jasper sees you he just screams out, Alice! I love you!"

Alice gives me a radiant smile. "You are the best best friend ever, you know that?"

"Why, yes, yes I do."

**-TWYW-**

"So are you coming?" Mike asks, smile wide looking expectantly at me in the hall after Entrepreneurship.

"Where are you going?" Edward asks beside me.

"I don't know," I answer them both.

"You can bring your homework and just do it in the stands," Mike pleads. He really wants me there.

"Okay, but you and Angela are coming with me," I say, poking Edward in his chest.

"Okay, you don't have to be violent," Edward says, rubbing his chest and then his nipple specifically.

"I'm always violent; you know this."

"I do know this; I like this." His grin's cheesy.

"Okay, so I'll see you then." Mike leans in and hugs me briefly before walking to his next class.

"So . . ." Edward says, rocking on the balls of his feet.

"So . . ."

"You ready for Prom?" Edward asks.

"I am. Mostly."

"Good, me too."

"And Angela?" I really hate inquiring after her, but it's the right thing to do. So I do it, begrudgingly.

"I think so. I should know this, right? I know what color my tie should be, at least."

"Oh, you're no going with a cummerbund and bowtie?" I frown and pout my lips. "You'd look so cute."

"Mmm, maybe I can arrange that, but you have to promise to laugh at me when I show up."

"Oh, I will."

We walk side by side to my next class, and Edward stands there awkwardly with his hands tucked in his back pockets. He's really respecting Angela and keeping his flirting very mundane, much to my chagrin. I miss his touching and innuendo even though I shouldn't.

"I kinda wish . . ." Edward leans in, and I tilt my head to the side.

"What?"

"I wish you hadn't fixed your tooth. It would've been so hot with your prom attire."

I laugh heartily and kick him in the shin. "Go to class, loser."

"Going, daisy dukes." He leaves with one last smirk over his shoulder.

**-TWYW-**

"Go, Mike! Woo!"

I cheer loudly while next to me Edward chants, "Hey, batta batta."

Angela smacks his knee, reprimanding him for his heckling, and he apologizes, entwining their hands. She lifts his hand to her lips and kisses it, then says, "It's time for these," commenting on his nails. He smiles in response and nods. Their clasped hands rest on his knee, and she spins his pinky ring round and round. It's mesmerizing.

The pitch comes in, and Mike smacks it clear out into the field. He drops the bat and speeds away, passing first and second base. The small crowd goes wild, clapping.

Emmett's up to bat next, and Edward heckles him as well. I'm noticing a trend.

"Don't you like anybody?" Angela chides playfully.

"I just want it to end so I can go home."

"You're terrible." She says the words playfully, but there's something about her expression that makes me think she really doesn't like Edward's jeers.

"You're terribl . . . ly good looking," he says, recovering quickly and pecking her cheek.

I want to gag, but I can't because it's cute in an annoying way.

Emmett swings on the first pitch, but the ball goes astray, popping over the backstop and heading straight toward us. Angela and I cower, but Edward stands, catching it easily. He takes the stairs two at a time, and when he's at the lowest part of the fence, throws it back to the pitcher, like no big deal.

Coach Lerner screams at Edward, "What have I been telling you, Cullen? Get on my team, dammit!"

"Maybe next year," Edward says, laughing.

"I've heard that before," Coach says, looking irritated, then returns his attention to the game.

Emmett hits a homer and brings Mike in, winning the game. They guy hug at the plate, and Mike whistles me over.

What am I? A dog?

I hop down the stands and meet him at the fence. He grabs the collar of my shirt – which I've decorated with his number – and pulls me in for a kiss, proud of himself.

"Sorry, I'm all stinky and sweaty," he says, sheepish smile on his face.

"Eh, I've had worse," I say, and Edward breaks into a laugh behind me.

"Are my ladies ready to go?" Edward asks, wrapping his arm around me, his other already around Angela.

"Dude, watch it," Mike says being silly.

"Get your own harem," Edward barks while I wave goodbye. He turns us around, heading toward the parking lot.

"Hey, Angela," a familiar voice calls.

"Hi, Ben," Angela says, turning toward him.

"Are you gonna be at Teen Night?"

"Yeah, Edward's dropping me off now."

"I'm headed that way. You want a ride?" he asks, eyes darting to Edward.

Angela peers up at Edward, seeking his approval.

"Sure, saves me gas," Edward says, kissing Angela goodbye. He rarely kisses her in front of me, but I don't think this could be helped. He needed to mark his territory. I get it. Doesn't mean it hurts any less, though.

"Bye, Bella," Angela says, and she leaves with Ben, heading to the East lot.

"Who the hell was that?" Edward's lips form a straight line. He is not happy about this.

"Ben," I say, trying not to laugh at Edward's gruff tone.

"That was uncool."

"Don't get all stupid. He was being nice. He's just a nice guy, Edward."

"How do you know this?"

"Oh, we were all in honor's physics last year."

"Meh-meh, meh-mah-mah," he mocks.

"You're an idiot."

**-TWYW-**

On the drive home, Edward's listening to his obnoxious pop music. "Why do you listen to this crap?"

"I dunno," he says, shrugging his shoulders.

"What's wrong with you? I haven't had a witty come back in days from you. This song is so retarded."

"It's sexy, yo," Edward says, glancing my way.

"Much better, thank you. So really . . . what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."

"Nothing, my ass. You . . . quiet, not singing or insulting me or doing something gross is wrong."

"Angela's bugging me today, that's all."

Oh. I really want to pry, but I don't think that's smart.

"Did you see the way she commented about my nails, all sugary sweet and motherly?"

"I thought it was fine," I say, knowing full well that it wasn't.

"It wasn't fine. Not even my mother would say it that way. You sure as hell wouldn't say it that way. It's just . . . I dunno . . ." He drags his hand through his hair and exhales.

As I think on this, I bust up laughing, and Edward joins me not having any clue as to why I'm letting loose like this.

"You're upset because she doesn't insult your nasty fingernails? And really, they're absolutely beyond ew this week, by the way."

"I don't care. It's not like—never mind. I don't know; it's more than that. I'm just bored."

"You mean she's boring?" _Please say yes!_ "Or that you're just bored."

"Oh, no, yeah,_ I'm_ bored 'cause she's got a lot of church stuff."

"Oh, yeah, me too. With Mike, I mean. He's got so many meetings and games. I'm home a lot twiddling my thumbs."

"We should . . . uh, twiddle . . ." He looks at me with a sly grin and continues, "Twiddle together."

"That could be arranged," I say playfully and think of Edward and myself in a compromising position on my bed "twiddling".

**-TWYW-**

I fidget in front of Edward's door, worried that he'll say something about the fact that I changed my clothes after school. But I'm sure I can insult him enough to divert his attention. Here's hoping . . .

"Bella, hi," Esme says when she answers the door. She's in a business suit and heels. I didn't even know she worked.

"Hi, Edward said I could just stop by."

"Sure, of course, come in." She opens the door wide, and I step inside, my hands folded in front of me. "I just got home, so I'm not even sure where he is."

"In his room," Rosalie says from the couch. Emmett sits next to her, a textbook on his lap. He waves.

"Okay, should I just . . ." I point toward the hall, but Esme shakes her head,

"Um, I wouldn't," Esme warns. "You'll get swallowed up by the stinky monster living in there."

"Okay, so should I just wait?"

"Edward!" Rosalie shouts.

A muffled and angry, "What!" comes back in seconds.

"I'll just let you kids figure this out," Esme says and heads down the hallway.

"You're girlfriend's on the phone."

"Tell her I'm not here!" More muffled, angry words from Edward.

"Real nice, jackass!"

Heavy footfalls fill the hall as Edward barks out, "Why can't you just . . ." and then Edward's standing before me, bare-chested, in a towel, and . . . wet?

"Um, hi," I say, chewing on my nails and staring at his happy trail. Oh, boy.

"Hi, uh, I just showered, so I'm gonna—"

"She knows that, moron," Rosalie says, breaking our spell.

"Just give me a sec." Edward disappears the way he came, and I stare shamelessly at his towel-clad butt as he walks away.

"You're welcome," Rosalie says, and Emmett snickers next to her.

"Um, yeah. Thanks or whatever."

"You two still pretending, I see," she says, not even looking at me. She's so scary.

"He has a girlfriend," I say, finding a seat in the living room.

"And you saw how excited he was when he thought she was on the phone."

"Bella," Edward calls from down the hall. "Come in here. Leave those losers by themselves."

"Coming," I say, and as I walk by Rose she grabs my wrist, squeezing it. Geez, she's strong.

"When you see that pigsty of a room and breathe in the stench that is my brother, just remember him in his towel. It's what I do with Emmett."

"Thanks, sweetie," Emmett says.

"Don't call me sweetie," Rosalie quips, and I nod, then head down the hall.

I knock and turn the knob slowly, waiting for Edward to protest my entering, but he doesn't.

I'm immediately assaulted by some sort of air freshener. I cover my nose with my shirt and take in the rest of his room. There's a mountain of clothes near a basket that's open and appears to be empty. CDs, shoes, and empty Chips Ahoy sleeves litter the floor.

Edward's back is to me as he shoves some shirts into a drawer. He threw on some cargoes but is still shirtless.

"Sorry about my sister. She's a little, erm—"

"It's okay. She did warn me about this, though."

"It's not so bad." Edward turns and laughs when he sees me holding my shirt over my nose.

"First of all," I say, locating the stinky Glade Plug-in and wrenching it out of the socket. "This has got to go." I head to his window, slide it open, and chuck it outside. "You can just air out your stink. And second—"

"No second," he says, shaking his head. "I cleaned for you, and that's saying something."

"No, you didn't," I say, swinging my free hand around, showing him the crap-filled room.

"I did. I made a path." He points to the floor and then to his laundry basket. "I even started a load in the washer."

"Wow, I'm honored, really." I trip over a few things as I make my way to his bed, sitting on the corner of it.

"You should be. First time I've ever cleaned my room—"

"Ever," I finish for him, and he laughs.

"For a girl, I was going to say, ya big dork."

"You're the dork if you think this is clean."

"It is clean," he protests.

"Not even close. You didn't even make your bed."

"If you want it made so much, you make it."

His eyes widen when I stand. I place my keys on his nightstand and start smoothing out his sheets. I crawl onto the bed to pull up the covers and tuck them into the side.

"You'd be cute in a little maid's outfit," he says, naughtiness in his voice.

"I would never wear a stupid outfit."

"Yeah, no, you're right. Naked is better." The lilt in his voice tells me how delighted with himself he is.

"You're such a guy."

"Hey, you really sleep naked or what?" he asks seriously, and I laugh.

"No, I don't sleep naked."

"Boo!" he heckles, and I throw a pillow at him. His lips curve into a devilish smile.

"Don't you dare," I say, but it's too late . . . he's lunging at me on the bed, pillow in hand.

He swats me in the face with it, and I throw myself toward him, knocking him over by the waist. He's flat on his back, bare chest just _right there_, and I decide it's too good to resist. So I do it . . . I bite his nipple.

"Bah! Hey, now! Stop with the kinky!" He's squirming beneath me and giggling adorably.

I bite again, and peer up at him, smiling victoriously. He's not smiling though. His eyes are pinched shut like he's in pain, or worse, severely turned on. . "Oh, no, I'm sorry, I was . . . just playing, I—"

"It's okay," he says, patting my face absently, hitting my nose and forehead.

"I'll just . . ." I push up off his pectorals, but he growls and flips us over so I'm lying beneath him.

"Now that I have you where I want you . . ." Edward leans in and just as he's about to press his lips to mine he smashes a pillow over my head.

"Hey!" I bellow. "I can't breathe."

"If you couldn't breathe, you'd shut up!"

I swat at his hands but it doesn't do much, so I make a sputtering noise and fake my death.

Edward gets up and whistles as he opens and closes drawers like nothing happened.

I lie there with his pillow over my face and breathe it in. It's a mixture of yummy Edward and stinky Edward and, sadly, I love it. It's oddly comforting.

"Are you still dead? I'm bored now." It's been less than a minute. He needs constant entertainment.

I look up to see Edward sitting on the floor, eating Chips Ahoy cookies. Where'd he get those?

I raise an eyebrow, and he holds a cookie out to me. "You want?"

I open my mouth, and he comes to join me on the bed, placing a cookie in my mouth. I chew as he spoons me on the bed. "I'm glad you're here," he says.

"Me too," I say quietly.

"I like you in my bed."

_I love being in your bed too._ "No comment."

Edward chuckles behind me and pats my hip.

"I lied to you."

"You did?" My voice is so quiet.

"She's boring. Angela." His words seem so resigned, and I feel sorry for him. I'm sorry for myself too, so reciprocate the best I can.

"Mike's patronizing."

Alice's words about her uncle flood my mind, and I know we're two steps away from having an affair. Yet, as I lay there – Edward's arm around my waist, his nose in my hair – I can't get myself to care.

**A/N:** For you're a jolly good reader, for you're a jolly good reader . . . Take What You Want got 5th at The Lemonade Stand this week! That makes you all full of win. Thank you so much for your readership and your votes.

I'm currently writing chapter 16 and have been stuck for a week, so . . . um, I'm going to update Tuesday and Thursday of next week to give myself some time to see if I can get my mojo back. Things just aren't gelling, and I can't force these two to do anything. Thanks for your tweets, follows, alerts, reviews, and especially for reading. It's fun to see how everyone reacts to this. It seems some people can completely relate while others think Bella and DirtyFlirtWard are nuts (not saying they aren't) and not realistic at all. Thanks for making this fun for me.

Prom is next. Eep! I'll get that blog up over the weekend - complete with teaser.

For those of you who know Perry Maxwell and are reading Unrequited, she's currently in the hospital not feeling too well, though things are looking up. Send her some love and positive thoughts, will you?


	14. Chapter 14 Be Careful

**Take What You Want**

**Chapter 14**

**Dialogue Flex: "Be careful," he warned.**

**Playlist: You Make Me Feel by Cobra Starship**

**Beautiful Girls by Bruno Mars**

**Soul Sister by Train**

Over the next two weeks Edward and I fall into a rhythm, hanging out every chance we can whenever Angela and Mike go to their various activities. I tend to enjoy going out as Edward always comes up with the silliest things to do. But his favorite place to be is at my house – when my mother is home.

"Oh, Edward, yay! I wondered if you'd come over today. I never know which one of my daughter's beaus will be coming." She leans into Edward conspiratorially and whispers, "And between you and me, Mike's a little . . ." She waves her hand back and forth. He laughs and gives her a high five.

I sit on my stool and swivel it back and forth, trying to distract myself from their mockery. "Nice, Mom, can we go now?"

"What? No." She actually looks sad, her brow furrowed.

"I haven't seen Edward since—"

"Yesterday, Mom. He was here yesterday."

"No, is that true?"

Edward nods.

Dad clomps into the kitchen. "Hey, I thought I heard Edward. How are you, buddy?"

"Good, sir, thank you."

"You hear that, Bella? How he calls me sir. Isn't it nice when a young man respects his elders?"

"Dad," I whine, and Mom pats Dad on his back.

"Back off Charlie. Bella, why don't you take your friend upstairs and go have some fun?" She winks at me, and I choke on my apple juice.

Oh my gosh . . .

"But dad said no boys up there, and—"

"That's 'cause you were dragging that Michael kid up there. No way, missy, not under my roof."

"Okay, but—"

"It's fine, honey, Edward's cool. Aren't you?" Mom turns her head to Edward, and he smiles.

"Sure, Mom. I'm cool," he says and side eyes me.

And that's how Edward and I end up playing Rummy for two hours in my room. We were forced to, really. Before Edward leaves I decide that if Mike gets upset about Edward in my room I can simply say, "My mother made me do it," and that'd be the truth.

**-TWYW-**

Wearing my grandmother's pink, lacey dress and the sparkle and pearl beads I found with Alice, I sit and wait on my couch, nervously chewing on my fingernails. Mike will be here any minute.

Dad sighs as he sits next to me, patting my knee.

"Hey, Dad."

"You know that I . . . look, if this Michael kid does anything—and there will be consequences, and I can't—"

"Don't hurt yourself, dear," Mom says, sitting across from us.

"That's my daughter, and I've seen them necking in my driveway, and if he so much as—"

"Daddy," I say, angling myself toward him. "I'll be fine."

"Just . . . be careful," he warns and gets up, walking into the kitchen.

"Will he be okay?" I say, eyeing Mom.

"He'll be fine. I'll distract him while your gone . . . with my feminine wiles."

"Ew, Mom, no."

"So," she says, taking Dad's seat. "Is _Edward_ going to be there?"

"_Yes_," I say, mocking her.

"Okay, just—honey, sometimes we hurt people even though we don't mean to. Think about what you want. All right?"

"I know; I am," I say.

"Aw," she coos, putting her hand on my cheek. "So gorgeous and all grown up."

The knock on the door sends her skittering off the couch.

"Hello, hello," she says, opening the door wide.

I stand and slide my feet into my heels, then look up to see Mike looking clean-cut in his black tie apparel.

"Hi," he says, smile wide, appraising me.

I go to him and squeeze his hand. My mother gives me a goodbye kiss and slips a twenty into my hand "just in case."

"You look so pretty," Mike says sincerely, and I really hope we have a good night.

**-TWYW-**

I'm there fifteen long minutes until some of my friends show up: Alice, Jasper, Rosalie and Emmett. Rosalie keeps a scowl on her face which Emmett continually tries to get rid of by doing something goofy. She was just with these people last year, yet somehow she can't seem to get comfortable here.

Several senior girls say hi to Rose and she appeases them, but as soon as they're gone she takes a seat with Emmett at our table. Mike and I sit as well, waiting for our dinner to be served. Just as my salad's set before me, I see him.

_Edward. _

He's cute when he's stinky, wearing loose basketball shorts and grungy sneakers without socks. So to say that he's cute in his tux, would be an understatement. He's unbelievable, that's what he is. All wild hair, sexy black tux with white bow tie and cummerbund, and an air of casual confidence. Just . . . yum.

He sits next to me and nudges me with his elbow. "Hey, beautiful," he says, wrapping his arm around me and squeezing my shoulder. As he pulls his arm away, he drags his hand over my back, his fingers grazing just beneath the fabric.

"Hi, you look good," I say, then lean forward so I can see Angela who's in a deep blue, modest gown. "You both look good."

"Thanks, Bella." Angela smiles and digs into her salad right away.

**-TWYW-**

The volume of the music is relatively low as most everyone is still eating their dinner, myself included. Conversation's flowing smoothly between all of us couples. I'm having a good time, but now that Edward and I are spending more of our afternoons together, it's becoming more difficult not to let our natural banter and innuendos slip. I have to be careful though. I don't think Mike would like it too much if I flat out flirted with another man in front of him, so I do my best.

But tonight, of all nights, seeing Edward gorgeous and joyful, makes it troublesome. I just want to reciprocate his attitude and mood. It's contagious, really. And I kind of wish Mike would catch it.

He's been talking politics at dinner, and no amount of my changing the subject will shut him up. It doesn't help that Emmett seems to enjoy him being flustered and goads him on with bogus quotes and such.

"No, no, that's not what he meant, Emmett. You're misinterpreting that," Mike says, his cheeks a bit red, his eyes narrowed. He's really irritated.

"I don't know. That's what they said on Fox News," Emmett says.

"Someday when I run, I'll—"

"You?" Edward blurts. "You're going to run for office?"

"Yeah, why not?" Mike asks, ire in his tone.

"Nothing," Edward says, but can't contain his laughter. He takes a sip of his drink and nearly does a spit take even though no one else's said anything.

"What's so funny?" I ask, dying to know what's going on in his brain.

"You," Edward answers, and all eyes are on me.

"What about me?" I ask, laughing.

"You . . . on Fig Newton's arm, trying to be politically correct and never being able to insult anyone. Ever. Oh, damn . . ." Edward hits the table with his hand, laughing hard, taking gulps of air to get through it.

Angela's eyes wrinkle in concern, and she whispers something in Edward's ear which seems to sober him up. I'm disappointed because I quite liked the moment of silliness. Oh, well.

"Bathroom," Mike says and scoots back abruptly, leaving us all.

Angela goes to the restroom as well, and the other couples leave for the dance floor.

"_You_," I say, trying to make Edward feel bad, but the smile on my face won't go away.

"I can't help it; he's a tool." His grin's infectious, and I should want to wipe it off his face. I don't.

The volume rises and the songs change from light to heavy with beat. Edward comes behind me and shimmies or some nonsense.

"What are you doing, goofball?"

"I'm good at the robot." He demonstrates behind me, making a fool of himself. "Come dance with me, honey pie."

"What about our dates?"

"They're going pee pee in the potty. You know you want to." He shakes my chair and nearly dumps me out of it.

"Fine, geez. Desperate much?"

He looks me over, a small, genuine smile adorning his face. "Only for you." He extends his hand, then runs us onto the dance floor, my hand in his. His sweet gestures juxtaposed to his rude silliness baffles me, but I love it. Every time I love it.

On the dance floor he twirls me under his arm then releases me, throwing his arms out wide. "Check this, chica." He starts in with the running man, and I counter with the sprinkler. Then I'm directly across from him doing some sort of John Travolta move, laughing hysterically.

Emmett and Rose dance a ways off, but I can sense them watching us. We probably look like such dorks, but we don't care.

Edward wraps me in his arms, swaying me back and forth as our laughter dies down and we dance like kids our age should. He moves closer to me, his hand on my waist as he presses his thigh between my legs. I know I shouldn't be doing this; I know I shouldn't be enjoying this; but I am. This is my prom, and . . . just . . . I want to have fun!

I throw my hands in the air and dip with Edward, following his moves. He runs his hand up my back, the other following a similar path up my other hip, waist, then ribcage. His hands work their way up to my shoulders where he finally grips me, pulling me closer. I don't know the first thing about dancing, and I don't need to with Edward as my partner. His hips direct my every move.

He's so good at this.

He leans in, and if the smell of his cologne isn't enticing enough, the feel of his smooth jaw so close to my face tempts me to do something about my attraction to him. But I don't; I can't.

As if sensing my reluctance, he breathes two small words against my neck that further weaken my resolve to do what's right. "Turn around."

Oh my gosh . . .

I always thought I wanted a gentleman in my life. One who would declare his love to me with a bunch of flowers or under a star-filled sky. But I can't imagine a gentleman doing what Edward's doing now. And I don't care because I love it. I need it. I want it.

Edward jerks my waist with his hands and positions himself behind me. My heart slams in my chest as my body responds to his touch, making me want more of it. He's quick to put his hands on me and move me where he wants me, his hips guiding my own the way he wants them. And then three more words . . .

"Let go, baby."

And I'm his.

His hand runs down my arm and up again, coaxing me, but it's not needed. I wind my arms up around Edward's neck, playing with his hair. I grind into him shamelessly to the thumping bass of the music. We dance and move together like longtime partners, free to do whatever we choose, but we shouldn't. And we don't care. Not one bit.

The same song changes swiftly into a faster, hard-hitting beat, and Edward changes pace, moving roughly behind me. His hands roam down the front of my thighs and back up over my lower abdomen. My breathing picks up, and my body waits in anticipation for something, anything to quench this frenzy that's begun. I'm getting antsy and feeling needy, so needy.

"Damn, Bella," Edward groans into nape of my neck, his head moving against mine.

"I know," I admit fully, but I'm not even sure he hears me since we're both so distracted.

The beat changes again as the song winds down, but we're both reluctant to let go of each other. Our grips lessen, but we stay in our same positions and simply slow our rhythm to match the new song that's being laced with the old.

Edward sighs, long and low, his breath making the delicate, lacey fabric on the back of my dress flutter. "Thanks for dance," he murmurs in my ear, his lips so close to it. "Angela's back," he adds and releases me, heading for his date.

I stand alone on the dance floor, gaping after a man that infuriates me and intoxicates me in equal amounts. Just then Mike wraps his arms around me from behind and spins me, arranging us into a formal dance position.

We don't speak as we dance, and I'm glad, needing some time to process my thoughts. As I turn in a slow circle I catch glimpses of Edward and Angela. They laugh and smile, but Edward's eyes seem dull. They're not as vibrant as they usually are when he's really happy. I keep my gaze focused on him, not able to look away.

His eyes snap to mine, and I know something has to be done. I can't live like this anymore.

I wrench away from Mike and excuse myself to the restroom, running as quickly as I can into the nearby stairwell. I plop down onto the lower steps and drop my head into my hands to cry.

Not more than thirty seconds later the double doors creak open, letting in the sounds and lights from the dance. I don't need to look up to know Edward's come to find me.

He sits beside me, close, his thigh pressing against me, his hand grasping mine immediately.

I look up into his deep green eyes, and all I see is concern, maybe even love. "You tell me what you want. You want me to get rid of her right now, I will. In fact, consider it done. She's gone, out of the picture. All I want is you."

"This is such a mess," I say, wiping my eyes and looking away.

"It doesn't have to be. We can fix this. Together, we can. I know we can."

"How? Someone will get hurt. They haven't done anything wrong," I say, throwing my hand out dramatically toward the door.

"It doesn't matter. Sometimes we try to be with someone, and it just doesn't work. Some people don't mesh. We . . ." he says, thrusting a finger between the two us, "do. You know we do."

I nod and wipe my eyes again, catching more of my tears.

"Bella, please . . ." He lets go of my hand and grips my bicep, turning me slightly. I feel his eyes on me, but I can't look at him. "Please, _please_," he says, shaking his head and leaning in. Our bodies shift at the same time, angling toward one another, his free hand now at the nape of my neck, his thumb rubbing slow circles there. The cold metal of his pinky ring grazing my skin makes me shiver. I breathe in and let out a shuddering exhale.

"I don't know if I can . . ."

"Shh," he shushes me, moving in slowly, smoothly until his lips brush against my cheek. "Shh." He kisses my earlobe softly, and I lean into his touch. "Shh," he says one last time before opening his mouth and kissing my neck.

I sigh and relax into him as I grip the lapels of his tux and bite my lip. "Edward." It's all I can say as he kisses my neck once again.

He moves his face ever so slowly, brushing his cheek against mine, his lips just beside my own. "Please, Bella, just . . ." He exhales slowly, smelling of our raspberry dessert, and I long to taste his lips.

"Hmm?" I hum, leaning into him.

He removes his hand from my bicep and slides it down my ribcage to my waist and squeezes before whispering, "Take what you want."

And I finally do.

We inhale at the same moment, and I press my mouth to his, opening it slowly, tentatively feeling my way around the curves of his lips. He squeezes my waist again and his grip on my neck tightens. I pull him in by his jacket and rise up onto my knees to get closer to him. I have to get closer to him.

He sits up taller and grasps my waist with both hands. He tugs, anchoring me to him, his hands splayed against my back as we both open our mouths wider, deepening our kiss. My hands roam up his neck until I'm tugging his hair, and he groans, pulling away from our kiss. He buries his head in my neck and hugs me tight, clinging to me.

"Too much?" I ask quietly, running my nails over his scalp.

"Not enough," he says gruffly, before capturing my mouth in a rough kiss, his tongue leading the way, making me want more.

I give myself wholly to the kiss, to the feel of being in Edward's arms, to this sheer bliss, and allow the sounds from the adjacent room to fade away.

We kiss with abandon, our hands moving slowly while our lips move with a fierceness I couldn't have anticipated, and it's absolutely exhilarating.

Our kiss slows and breaks up now and then, Edward's lips lingering on mine, his hands cupping my face gently while he gives me sweet yet sensual, small kisses. "We should probably . . ."

"Yeah," I say, though draw him in again, letting my tongue tell him how much I don't like his plan.

"Okay, okay," he says, standing slowly, but still kissing me, pulling me up with him. "Mmph," he grumbles and kisses me once hard, his teeth hitting mine. "Damn," he breathes, then bites my bottom lip, kissing it once to make it better, I suppose.

He grabs both my hands in his and kisses them, then peers into my eyes. "I've got something to do tonight, and I can't do it if you keep distracting me."

"I'm sorry," I say, looking down at my feet.

"Don't apologize," he says, laughing and dips his head to catch my eyes.

"Okay."

"Just stick with the plan, and we'll . . . erm . . ." He lets go of my hands, rubs his neck, and adds, "Go from there or whatever."

"What plan?"

"Am I that good of a kisser that you have no idea what I'm talking about?"

"I . . ." I look up straight into his eyes and smile. "Um, yeah." I bob my head, and he laughs.

"Okay, I know we didn't . . . listen, I just . . ."

"What?" I ask, exasperated.

"You're cute all freshly kissed."

I put my hands on my hips and shift my weight onto one foot. This is dumb. Between the two of us we should be able to say something coherent and meaningful, but we can't.

"I'm gonna go. I have someone to say goodbye to tonight, and you're going to . . ."

"Yes," I say, assuring him that I will be doing the same.

"And then, I'll call you or whatever."

"Yeah. I mean, yes, good. Works for me."

"Great," he says, grin wide. "I'll just go then." He takes a step back, then one forward and pulls me into his arms kissing me again, his hands dangerously low on my back, squeezing me there. I press my hands into his pecs and push him away while simultaneously keeping him close with my kisses.

"Okay, mmm . . ." He kisses me once. "I'm just gonna . . ." He kisses me twice and takes a step back, but I follow him. "I need to . . ." He points over his shoulder, and I lean in for another kiss which he accepts. "Dammit! This is just . . ."

I pull him in by his cummerbund and kiss him hard and fast, my tongue working against his.

"Okay," he says, his breath shaky.

I run my thumb over my lips and clasp my hands behind my back, rocking on my heels.

"Um, bye. Thanks." He walks backward toward the double doors.

"You're welcome," I say, laughing as he fumbles behind him, searching blindly for the doorknob.

He wrenches it open and smirks just before disappearing into the bass-filled room behind him.

**A/N:** Blog for Chapter 15 will be up soon. Tomorrow at the latest. I hope you're still enjoying the story, the music, the photos, etc even though there was angst. I actually finally changed the label to Humor/Angst which looks so stupid together, but I think it works.

Cejsmom and _ss77_ are awesome and so generous, making time for my ramblings about DirtyFlirtWard. They're helping me get through my slump. The good news is I got through chapter 16, 17, and 18. The bad news is I'm stuck again. Grr. Wish me luck!


	15. Chapter 15 Spine

**Take What You Want**

**Chapter 15**

**Word Prompt: Spine**

**Playlist: Only If by Jeremy Ashida**

**Lovesick by Never Shout Never**

Determined to break up with Mike tonight, I smooth my hair, making myself presentable and follow Edward through those double doors.

He's on the dance floor with Angela, and Mike's seated at our table. When our eyes connect he smiles wide, happy to see me. "Hey, you wanna dance some more at prom, or what?" he asks. He stands, walking to me and offering his arm like a gentleman, something Edward would never do unless he was trying to be stupid. They are so different. What was I thinking being with Mike?

He has manners, even if he's a little condescending. He knows how to have fun in the typical sense of the word: dinner and a movie. And he knows what he wants in life, but does he know who he is? Does he know who I am, like Edward said? I don't think he does.

It's only been a short while that we've been together – though in a high school relationship it's been quiet a long time, I guess – but clearly, tonight is the night to put an end to this nonsense.

I lace my arm through Mike's, and we take to the dance floor. He tells me about his upcoming council meetings and how his baseball teammates are doing. I respond appropriately all the while watching Edward stare at me over Angela's shoulder. His eyes are mesmerizing.

Certainly I've seen him look at me before, but not like this. Never like this.

This is different.

This is better.

This is freaking hot.

Mike quiets down, and his hand on my back lowers, causing a grimace on Edward's handsome face. I reach for it and hold it against Mike's heart, earning a dorky thumbs up from Edward.

The song finishes, and Mike and I hang with our friends at the table, cracking jokes and talking. Edward and Angela stay on the dance floor for an extended period of time, and then disappear altogether.

"Where do you think they went?" I ask.

Alice shrugs, but Mike shares his opinion with us immediately.

"I don't mean to be rude, but it _is_ Edward Cullen, and this _is_ prom. Put two and two together. It doesn't take a genius."

"Pssh, you clearly don't know my brother," Rosalie says.

"I know him enough," Mike says.

"You know his reputation," she snips, and Emmett calms her with his hand over hers.

"Whatever," he says, and takes me out on the dance floor again. He only seems to want to dance to slow songs and gets progressively more handsy as the night wears on. I hadn't really thought about that – having to thwart his advances. I should've just told him as soon as I exited that stairwell, but I didn't. I am so pathetic. No spine whatsoever.

I'm not sure when or where to tell Mike the bad news, but it's got to be soon before I chicken out. "Mike, I—"

My mind goes blank as Angela runs onto the dance floor with Edward behind her. They join some of her friends and start goofing off, doing silly dance moves. It looks like Edward hasn't said his goodbye yet either.

"Bella, do you want to get out of here?" Mike asks, looking like he wants to kiss me, maybe more than kiss me. Oh, no.

I fake a yawn, and speak through it. "Yeeeeah, I'm pretty tired myself."

Midway home I run an experiment when we're at a stop light. "Chinese fire drill!" I shout and run around the car.

Mike is so slow unbuckling. He hits the unlock button twice, then walks to the passenger side. When he gets in I glance at him, and he looks sort of . . . pissed?

"Are you okay?" I ask. Geez, I don't want him angry before I break up with him.

"I'm fine, Bella, I just . . . I don't think that's a very safe thing to do. And it's my car you're driving now so . . ."

"Oh," I say. Well, now what? I pull into a strip mall and park the car so we can switch back. It seems like the right thing to do since he's so agitated.

Wow. That certainly was an effective experiment. He's no Edward that's for sure. And I'm no Mike. I plainly remember having a lot of fun doing this with Edward. Hmm, Edward. I miss him already and wonder what he's doing. Wonder if he's already broken up with Angela. I hope so. Not that I have. Broken up with Mike, I mean.

Mike's quiet the rest of the ride home, which is nice. I need to be with my thoughts right now. At my home, Mike slides over and leans in for a kiss. I don't want to be rude, but I don't know what to do. I just had Edward's tongue in my mouth. Anything that Mike could give me at this point would pale in comparison and gross me out a little. And make me feel terribly guilty. At the last second I slide forward and right to kiss the side of his mouth. He pulls back and smiles wide, rubbing his thumb over my cheek. "You're so pretty," he says, looking me over.

"It was prom," I say, rolling my eyes.

"It _is_ prom. Night's still young." He looks so desperate for me to grab hold of this and roll with it, but I won't. I can't. Not now, not that I even would if Edward weren't in the picture.

I lean my head on the seat, looking directly at him. He really is cute: pinchable cheeks, nice head of hair, like an attractive presidential candidate. I just can't be his first lady; I don't know why I ever thought I could. "I should get inside. Thanks for tonight, Mike, and everything."

"Everything? You sound like you're saying goodbye." He laughs, then looks at me with concern in his eyes, and I panic.

"Oh, well, I mean, just goodnight, not . . . anyway—" The flashing porch light grabs our attention, and I force a laugh. "My dad doesn't like us idling in the driveway."

"You wanna go somewhere else? Our park?"

"Not tonight."

"Okay," he says, tone sullen. I'm not sure if he's upset that I don't want to make out or if he's upset that he can't spend anymore time with me.

"Goodnight," I say again and kiss him on the cheek.

I head inside, closing the door and am met with my mother's gleeful expression. What the hell is going on? "Edward called," she blurts.

Of course he did.

**-TWYW-**

By the time I'm ready for bed, I have several texts from Edward, but they're bookended by the thing most on his mind, I guess.

_I'm ready . . . you?_

_Angela still adores me. She's mature. More than Mike. How'd he handle it? Did he cry? Please, tell me he cried. _

_And that he didn't kiss you._

_Your mother loves me, by the way._

_I can't stop thinking about your lips. They matched your dress . . . until I kissed them. I. Kissed. Your. Lips._

_I wanna do it again._

_Like now._

_What are you doing?_

_What are you wearing? _

_So, seriously, I'm ready to do this. Are you?_

Am I ready? Hell, yes, I am. I just need to stop being so wimpy and do what I need to do. So before going to bed, I arrange a meeting with Mike in the morning.

**-TWYW-**

"This is fun; we should do breakfast together more often," Mike says, taking a bite of his bagel and egg sandwich.

"Yeah," I say. I am such a wimp. _Just do it, Bella!_

"Is your pastry good?" he asks, and I nod. "Last night was fun."

My eyes snap up to his, and I know it's now or never.

"It was." I pause, taking a sip of my drink and return my attention to him. "Mike, I think we should break up." Well, that didn't go so well. I was too blunt.

"Huh?" His eyes narrow as he looks over my face.

"I don't think we're right for each other," I say honestly.

"Why do you say that?"

"We're just not . . . I don't feel like I can be me when I'm with you."

"Why not?"

"You're kind of . . . mmm, conservative, and I'm a little bit crazy sometimes."

"I do think you're a little nuts sometimes, but I don't mind."

"You're going to college next year too, and I just don't think . . ."

"To tell you the truth . . . I think you're right." He shrugs and squints his eyes like he's not sure he should say what he's about to say. "Sometimes you embarrass me."

Oh my gosh . . .

I want to laugh, but I don't. Instead, I nod. "I think it'd be best if we were just friends."

"Well, I can't say I'm not disappointed. I really like you, Bella." He squeezes my hand, and I smile. We did have some fun together. It was nice, our relationship, but it went on for too long.

"Did you . . . I mean, did you at least have fun at prom?"

"I did," I say, nodding, remembering the times I was with Edward. Of course I kept that to myself.

**-TWYW-**

_Done_, I text to Edward as soon as I'm in my car, then add, _They were pink—my jammies – and they matched my dress, which matched my lips, which you kissed_. _Which I dreamed about all night long . . ._

As soon as I get home, my phone chimes with a response from Edward.

_So what you're saying is . . . I'm the man of your dreams? _

_No, what I'm saying is you were in my dirty dream last night. _Really I dreamed that we were playing cards, and he kept trying to get me to play strip poker, but I'm not going to tell him that.

Edward's response is near immediate.

_Lkdhsuygflhg;oifyg._

I can't stop laughing. It gets me every time. _He_ gets me every time. Damn him and his silliness.

There's a quiet knock on the door. I set my phone down and continue to giggle as I answer it.

It's Edward.

At my door.

With Bart.

"Hi," I say, tilting my head, smiling.

"Hey," he says, patting his dog. "You wanna take a walk with your dream man?" His smile is so huge. And smug.

I flip the lock and close the door behind me. then follow alongside Edward and his tail-wagging dog.

"He likes you," Edward says, and I smile. This is awkward. A little bit. I kind of wish he'd insult me to break this strange tension between us.

"I like him too."

Edward smiles shyly and dips his head. "I dreamed about you last night too."

I raise an eyebrow, and he laughs.

"It wasn't dirty, I promise. Mostly. Except that it was."

I hit his arm, and he grabs it, feigning injury.

"There's a park up here," I point out.

We head toward the park, and I sprint once it's in view, Edward keeping up behind me, and Bart barking as he runs.

I tackle the large double slide and plummet back down face first. Edward follows suit and comes down the matching side of the slide, and we face each other.

"Is this weird?" he asks.

"Totally weird. You haven't insulted me once."

"Wanna make out?"

"No." I giggle and pinch him.

"Boo! You're a crappy girlfriend."

"I'm not your girlfriend. Ew! Edward Cullen's girlfriend? Who said I wanted to be your girlfriend?"

"Doesn't matter anyway now. Goal accomplished." He folds his arms over his chest proudly.

I sit up, getting a head rush from being upside down.

"You're on my list." He licks his lips seductively.

"Ahhh, I'm on a list with Stanley? Dammit! Why do you have to be so—"

"Hot? Ruggedly handsome? Babelicious? Intelligent? Good at dancing? Delicious?"

"Stupid," I finish.

He gets up and pulls me to the swings, then yells for Bart to stay close. We twist side by side, and I can feel his eyes on me.

"What?" I say annoyed.

"You're a good kisser."

I can't say anything to that. First, there's no immediate insult, and now he's complimenting me. This is bizarre and is seriously wigging me out.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I ask, frowning.

"I'm not looking at you like anything."

"Yes, you are.

"Okay, fine, how was Mike?"

"As a kisser?"

"No as a barber, dummy." That's better. I like the banter. It's us.

"He was fine."

"Hmm." Edward's lips pucker like he's sucking on a lemon.

"I'm not gonna lie and say he was bad. He wasn't. And frankly, I hadn't been kissed in so long I rather enjoyed kissing Mike."

"Yuck." Edward digs his toes in the sand and swivels his foot back and forth. "So . . . who before Mike?"

"Guy named Jake."

"But that was forever ago."

"Oh, yeah, you knew Jake, huh? From junior high."

"Yeah, you were, man, what? Twelve? I was still wearing tightie whities, and you were kissing boys."

"I wasn't twelve."

"Yeah. We were at Janet Porter's house, and you and Jake—"

"You saw that?" My memory flashes back to my first kiss with Jake, and I'm stunned knowing that Edward was there.

"I saw it," he says, eyes darting to the ground.

"Why were you watching us, you dirty, pervy perverson?" I push him, and the chains on his swing clink around.

"I was watching you a lot back then. Just watching."

"Wh-what?"

"You were my first crush, Bella Swan." He looks at me and bats his eyelashes swiftly.

"You haven't been—like—all this time—"

"No, get over yourself. You were a pretty girl, smart, fun. I wanted to get to know you, and Jake swooped in. The rest is history. Sad, sad history. Wanna make out now?"

"No, and for your information he was my neighbor. There was no swooping. He was leaving, and we had been crushing on each other all year so we kissed goodbye. He moved a few days after that."

"So you waited for years to have a second kiss?"

"I didn't say that."

"You said Jake was your last kiss before Mike."

"He visited this summer, and he was hot. Boy grew up, let me tell you." I shimmied to make my point.

"I'm utterly devastated right now."

"Oh, please. It was nothing. Just some friendly kisses and a few . . ."

Edward shakes his head with his hands out, fingers flailing. "I don't wanna . . . um, no."

"Okay, then. Same to you."

"So . . . that's a short list."

"You should see my other list."

"What's on it?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I say. I just love flirting with him.

"Nah, I don't really care. What I do care about is making our own list." Edward leans in, eyes trained on my lips. His hair's ruffled from the run, cheeks pink as well. Just as he's coming closer I kick off the ground, swinging away, laughing.

"They were both awful. Say it, woman."

"They were both awful . . . ly good with their tongues."

"Eh, that's just—you can't just—"

"Stop being such a baby and swing with me, boy."

"Don't call me boy."

"Don't call me woman."

Edward stands and yanks my chain, my swing whipping around before stilling. He's directly in front of me, planting his hands on my thighs, leering at me. "What should I call you then?"

"I don't know. How 'bout Bella?" I suggest.

"You hated that!" he says, exasperated and laughing.

"Oh, right. Shoot, Um . . ."

"Can I call you baby?" He lowers himself, dragging his nose over my cheek and kissing my earlobe.

"I'm don't really . . . um . . ." I don't like idea of being one of his many babies, but there's something about the way he says it to me. Like it's my name. Like he means it.

"Baby?" His hands slide up my thighs to my waist.

"Yeah?" I whisper, waiting for him to kiss me.

"This is really awkward. I'm doing the splits."

"Oh," I blurt, standing and bonking his head with mine.

"Ow!" He bellows. "What the hell?"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry–just–I just wanted you to kiss me, and you didn't and I—"

"Shut up," he says, laughing and tugging at my arm, wrapping it around him. He places my other arm around him too and tilts his head, taking me in.

"He didn't grab me the way you did," I say, not meaning to.

"Who?" he asks, grinning.

"Neither one of those dumb boys.

"That's right. 'Cause they're dumb and ugly. Whereas I'm just—"

"Smelly," I finish for him, and he shoves me down, cramming my head into his armpit.

"This is so wrong," I cry out.

"Aw, come on, pookie, don't be like that."

"I can't be like anything. I'm dying from the stink."

He pulls me up, taking pity on me and giving me a peck.

"Come over to dinner tonight. I'll make you something."

"That sounds fabulous, but first . . ." I tug him by his shirt and kiss him hard. I smack him on the ass and take off running. Bart follows while Edward's laughter fades behind me.

"You call that a kiss!" he yells.

I flip him the bird and keep jogging, heading back home – where my parents are not.

**A/N:** Reviews are better than finding out your whole family has pertussis and it's too late for antibiotics to work. Leave me some *cough, cough, hack, hack* love?

I will continue with this Tuesday/Thursday posting schedule next week. Blog for chapter 16 will be up soonish as well as some quick read recs. Thanks for all the love and support for this story. I've had an influx of readers this week which means you all are good pimps. Thanks!

Perry Maxwell was released from the hospital but was readmitted. Send her some love.


	16. Chapter 16 Knife

**Take What You Want**

**Chapter 16**

**Word Prompt: Knife**

**Playlist: Brighter Than the Sun by Colbie Callait**

**Sweet Perfection by Never Shout Never**

When I get home, I close the door behind me. I think Edward got waylaid by his dog; I don't mind. I like playing with Edward.

The doorknob jiggles, but doesn't open.

"Hello," he says, banging on the door.

"No soliciting." I cover my mouth to muffle my laughter. He deserves it.

"Ha ha, schmoopy, open up."

"I'm sorry, but I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not? I'm lonely out here all by myself. I miss you." He's so obnoxious but very adorable as well.

I open the door wide, placing my hand on my hip. "It's not a good idea because my parents aren't home." I smile coyly. He drops Bart's leash and attacks me. His lips are firm against mine, his arms clamping down around me as he lifts me up awkwardly, pressing my body to his. I'm completely surrounded by Edward. Despite my complaining of being in his armpit earlier, he's smells amazingly boy today – in the best way possible.

Bart goes bazonko barking as Edward's carrying me into the house. He closes the door with his foot, and Bart yelps.

"Bart!" he shouts, snapping his head around to a closed door. "Oh, crap." He laughs and opens the door, tying Bart to a post just outside it. He's cursing and demeaning his dog as he struggles with the knots. I watch from behind, laughing at his irritation.

He swivels his head to glare, and I only laugh harder. He's so cute all frustrated like this. In fact, I like him frustrated. I crouch down beside him, my hand on his back. "Calm down. The calmer you are, the faster you'll be." I run my hand between his shoulder blades and into his hair. I come in close and whisper, "The faster you are, the more time we'll have together." I kiss him beneath his ear, and I swear Edward whimpers. He looks at me as I stand up and back away. When he's up and the dog is situated, he slams the door. I take that as my cue to run.

This is so fun.

He's close enough to reach out and grab me, but he doesn't, not until I'm in the doorway of my room. He pulls me into him, grin wide, and walks me backward until I've fallen on my mattress pinned beneath him. Just before he kisses my mouth, he switches his angle and goes for my neck, while simultaneously hitching my leg over his hip with a firm hand.

Holy cow, he knows what he's doing. This is so different from anything I've ever encountered.

I breathe erratically, and my body writhes beneath him. I did not expect this. We're playful. We're silly. And, yes, we like each other, but, wow, just wow.

"Um, I think," I say, catching my breath as he pushes me higher onto the bed by grabbing my thigh and shoving me forward. Once he has me where he wants me, he slides his hands under my back, griping my shoulders, forcing me to arch up. He smothers my neck with kisses and drags his nose down my chest between my breasts before coming back up and kissing me soundly.

"I really think—"

He covers my mouth again with his, and I press up. He seems to think this is an invitation to grind, which he does, eliciting a moan out of me. My body's a traitor. We need to talk.

"Hey, hey!" I yell, and he jolts his head back, eyes darting from my eyes to my lips. His eyes narrow, and he gets up quickly, kneeling between my legs.

"I'm sorry. Oh, hell, I'm so sorry. I just—and you looked all—and then—"

"Hey, no. It's okay. It's . . . it was hot, Edward. I just—we should talk first, don't you think?"

"Yes, talk. Mmm hmm. Talk. Yes, talk." He scoots back, sitting cross-legged and snatching a pillow to place in his lap. I can't help it and giggle at how ridiculously cute that is.

"Well, for starters, um, should we do something official? I mean, like . . ."

"You want me to ask you out? Why can't you do it?"

"Why can't _you_ do it?"

"I could . . ." He looks down and twirls his pinky ring around his finger.

I stare at it going round and round, and, dammit, I want that ring.

"What if I just . . ." I reach out for Edward's hand, and he smiles softly, staring at our fingers. "Yoink!" I say, pulling off his pinky ring.

"Hey, that's mine," he says, laughing.

"Not anymore." I get up and head to my dresser to look for a chain to put my ring on.

He comes up behind me, eyes catching mine in the mirror of my vanity.

"So what did he say?" he asks, looking around and choosing a silver chain for me. "Did you tell him about us?"

"No. I didn't even mention there was anyone else. I don't want to be labeled a whore."

"You don't?" he asks, feigning shock.

I glare at him.

"Seriously, what did he say?" Edward reaches around me, putting the ring on the chain and clasping it around my neck.

"He said," I start but can't think because Edward runs his fingers down my spine causing me to shiver.

"What did he say? Did he cry? I'd cry."

"You would?" I ask, jerking back making our bodies flush.

"Hell, yeah. If I thought you didn't want me anymore."

I blink, trying to take in what he's saying. "He, uh, actually, he said I embarrassed him sometimes."

Edward throws his head back, laughing. There's something so inherently beautiful about Edward when he's like this. I love seeing him smile. "That's so awesome. No way? He said that? What a moron! He doesn't even know what he had."

"And what's that?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

"One hot, badass chick that kisses and never misses." He wiggles his eyebrows, and we chortle together.

"You're so dumb."

"And you wanna do dumb, don't ya?" He snaps his teeth at me. What a dork.

"Mmm, no."

"No?"

"Nah, no, thanks," I say, trying my best at nonchalance.

"We'll see." He leans in, and I can't stop watching our reflection. He places a few small kisses on my neck, sweeping my shirt to the side to get at more skin on my shoulder.

"Why don't you just wear this on your finger?" He sweeps his hand across my collarbone and fingers the ring.

"I don't want anyone to know."

"That we're dating?" His head snaps up, and I turn me to face him.

"I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings."

"You won't; Angela knows anyway. She said she saw it coming. She even prayed about it."

"Okay, but Mike doesn't—"

"Screw, Fig Newton," Edward says with such disdain. He really doesn't like him. Like at all.

"I don't think you'd be very happy with me if I did."

"You know what I mean."

"Let's just give it a bit of time. I don't want to go parading around on Monday holding your hand. That's just mean. And he'd know something's up, and then he'd ask. I'd tell him because I'm honest, and it would just be ugly."

Edward scowls and turns abruptly without saying anything. He flops down onto the bed, face first and groans.

"Just for a little while and then people can know." He says nothing. Why isn't he saying anything? He always has something to say.

Edward pulls a pillow over his head, and I sit beside him on the bed.

"I don't want to be mean to Mike. I don't."

"You should have thought about that before you kissed another man at prom." His words are muffled, but clear enough.

"I'm sorry," I say, shrugging. It's not that big a deal.

"That's it? I'm sorry?"

"What do you want me say?"

"I don't want you to _say_ anything."

"You don't, huh?" I scoot closer and lower myself over Edward's back. I can't believe we're here in my room kissing and—but we're not kissing. Why aren't we kissing?

I run my hand over Edward's arm and back up again, dragging my nails over his neck and into his hair. I lean in, kissing his neck, and he squirms. "Do you accept my apology?"

He says nothing. I lick his earlobe and nibble on it. His eyelashes flutter, and he exhales loudly.

"I'm sorry," I say again.

"Okay," he says in a sigh. "But you owe me kisses. Anytime I want."

"Okay, just not at school."

"What?" he says, bucking me off of him.

"Not at school, doofus, people will know."

"I just want you to remember that you did this, all right?"

"_Okay_," I say, drawing the word out. Whatever that means.

"Well, you're coming over to dinner tonight. So can our parents know? I mean, your mom does."

"Yes, of course."

"Okay, good. I hate to kiss and run, but . . ." I'm disappointed that he's disappearing already. He just got here. "Everyone loves a good chase," he says, pulling me up and giving me one hell of a kiss. "Unless you want me to stay. We could have some afternoon delight." He pinches my waist, and I squeal.

"No way, perv."

"How 'bout I just . . ." He makes a double grabbing motion with his hands while eyeing my breasts. Oh, no. What did I get myself into?

"You wish," I say, walking away. He yanks me by the elbow and pulls me into him, crashing his mouth to mine. I could kiss him all day. I'm sure I will. Well, not today, but someday.

"I do wish," he says against my lips. "Mmm, and you do too."

I make a noise of disgust in my throat, but he just laughs.

"S'true," he says, punctuating his words with a snap to my bra.

"You're like twelve. You know that, right?"

"You know what's not twelve, my—"

"Dude!" I shout, coming in closer to shut him up. "No, just no."

He nods excitedly like it's true. "So, five-ish?"

"I'll be there with bells on."

"With my ring on . . ."

"With your ring on." I lean in this time and kiss him, my hands running through his hair.

"I'm liking this so much," he says as a lazy smile spreads across his face.

"Yeah, too much . . .yeah, go."

"I'll see ya tonight." Edward leaves me to my empty home where I obsess over what to wear. Boyfriends are nothing but trouble.

**-TWYW-**

I'm putting mascara on, my head tilted to the side since my phone is cradled between my ear and shoulder. Alice is chattering so much that I haven't even said more than two sentences to her.

" . . . And then he kissed me. All sweet and tender and held my face in his hands like a movie and said he loved me. It was so frigging romantic, I can't stand it." I know all of this, already. She's repeated the same story three times, but it's Alice. I love her, so I listen.

"I'm so happy for you. It sounds like any girl's dream prom night."

"So much better than any of these movies with whores in them that get a hotel room. Who does that, anyway? And what ignorant hotel manager doesn't realize what's going on when two kids show up at eleven at night in formal wear? They should get shooed out of there."

"And someone should call their mothers."

"Totally. So, anyway, we've been texting each other all day with just three little words. I love you. I love you. I love you." Alice lets out a long sigh and waits a beat before starting up again. "So Jasper said he loves me. Woot! How was your night?"

"My night was great. Broke up with Mike this morning."

"You did what! Tell me everything. Did he go nuts? Did he yell? Or, better yet, cry?"

I can't contain my laughter as her words echo Edward's. I miss him already. Good thing I'm seeing him in less than a half hour.

"He didn't cry. It was actually pretty pleasant. Like Mike."

"So when are going to tell Edward?"

"Um, he sorta knows . . ."

"He knows? What do mean _he knows_? And if he knows what does _that_ mean?"

"We kissed last night." On instinct I hold the phone away, and I'm so glad I did because Alice shrieks at the top of her lungs.

"And, and, and? Was it good? Was there tongue? Did he grab boob? Did you start? Or did he? Where were you? Why didn't you tell me? Are you a couple now? Holy hell, you and Edward freaking Cullen!"

"It was amazing. Lots of tongue; no groping. I kissed him, and we were in the stairwell. What else did I miss?"

"Are you together now?"

"Yep. But we're gonna keep it on the D.L. so no one's feelings get hurt. I wouldn't want to make Mike feel bad. And Edward's not worried about Angela, but I am."

"I wouldn't worry about her. She knew. Bella, we all knew that he wanted you. I hate to say this about sweet, little Angela, but I think it was kind of . . . if Edward Cullen asks you out, you say yes."

"Mmm, maybe. But I think they really liked each other."

"Well, he likes you more."

"I know."

We're silent for a minute and then squeal at the same time.

"Edward freaking Cullen."

"I know," I say, watching my reflection. My smile is so wide; I look like such a dork.

"He's gonna tell you he loves you."

"No, he won't. He's not that type of guy. He could barely even say he was sorry about the whole Jessica thing and being such an ass. It's fine, though. I mean, we'll just see what happens."

"He will," she says again firmly. Such a dreamer, that Alice.

"I don't know."

"Well, even if he doesn't say it, he does. Love you, that is. I can see it. I know these things."

"Whatever you say. All right, I gotta get going. Dinner with my man."

"Eeeeeee! So excited for you."

"Geez, you sound like my mother."

"Ooh, how is she taking it?"

"All bouncing and hopping. You know how she gets."

"And Charlie?"

"He doesn't know. I think I'll keep it that way. I don't need him flinging Edward out of the house again anytime soon. Okay, love you, but I really gotta go."

"Okay, tell Edward I don't hate him anymore."

"I'll do that."

**-TWYW-**

I've just put my things on the entry table of the Cullen's home when Carlisle speaks up.

"So, Bella, what brings you here? I was expecting Angela." Carlisle's smile is charming, but really? I'm not sure how to respond to that. That's not even funny. I worry about my bitch face, but Rosalie rescues me.

"Dad, just no."

"Aw, Edward said she had a great sense of humor. I'm just playing."

"You don't joke about exes," she says sternly.

"Well, no one tells me anything. Forgive me, doll face?" He pouts his lips and bats his eyelashes. Oh, boy. I don't see Carlisle often, but when I do, I'm always struck by how similar he is to his son, or vice versa.

"Sure, um, is Edward—" I start, but Rose cuts me off.

"He's in the shower because what better time to get in than the exact time your date's supposed to show up?"

"Oh," is all I say.

"He'll be out in a minute. Can we talk?" She points to the hall.

"Yeah."

Carlisle gives me a sad wave goodbye, and I follow Rose into her room. It's very tidy and plain, simple but beautiful in soft pinks and browns. Not really what I expected.

"Edward tells me you don't want to come out of the dating closet yet, and I get that, I do. But I just want to give you a heads up that he is not happy about that."

Oh. How does she know so much?

As though she's reading my thoughts, she answers, "Edward and I are close. Really close."

"Okay."

"I understand more than anyone not wanting to look like a skank or whatever, but—"

"I don't think anyone ever thought you were a skank. It's not like you played around in high school. You were always with—"

"Royce, yeah. Look, I want to clear something up that I know Edward is too stupid to clear up. So just hear me out, all right?"

"Sure."

"Edward's not a man whore. He acts like one. He fools around, kisses, has a million girls on his arm, a lot of girlfriends, but he doesn't sleep around. I just think that's very important to know. After what Mike said last night about him, I just . . . it made me upset that people just make dumb assumptions and judge. That's why I dropped out last year – too much judgment."

"High school's pretty brutal."

"Yep, community college is so much easier. You just mind your business, get your work done, and go home. People act like adults."

"Rose, can I ask . . . I don't want to be rude, but why did you leave? You seemed so happy before you left."

"I . . ." She peers into my eyes for a moment. I wonder what she's thinking. Is she trying to figure out if I'll judge her? Tell someone? I wouldn't dare. Whatever she's about to say seems important. "I got pregnant. Royce wanted me to abort, and I didn't. He ran like a fool. He was already at the university, so he just pretended like I didn't exist after I told him my decision. I stayed in school for as long as I could and then left. Four weeks later, I miscarried. By then I had already set things in motion for my GED and community college, and I was so depressed. The thought of going back to high school just seemed so . . . stupid. Everyone there's so juvenile, and I wasn't. Not anymore."

"I'm really sorry," I say, unable to think of anything else. Wow, so much happened to her.

"Edward was there through all of it. He's an amazing friend, Bella, he really is. And while he flirts around and acts like an idiot – _is_ an idiot most of the time, really – he does have some semblance of right and wrong. He's flawed, but he's also very sweet and loyal. And he'd kill me for saying this, but, damn, that boy is so smitten with you, it's ridiculous."

"Oh, well, I really like him too. We always have so much fun together even when we're fighting."

"That's good. My parents are either at each other's throats or all kissy kissy in front of us. It's annoying, but it works – just like you and Edward and me and Emmett."

"How's that going, by the way? Emmett?"

"Um, I'm . . . not sure I can put it into words. But he's been really good for me. Really good. He's patient which is good. So, yeah, it's good."

"Good."

Edward barges in just then and looks me up and down, checking out my nicer-than-usual outfit. He catches my eyes and grins like a damn fool. So I dressed up. Big deal. But I can't complain. I'll take his smiles any day.

"Hey, honey bunny, you ready to eat?" He wiggles his eyebrows before tugging on my arm like a caveman and dragging me down the hallway.

**-TWYW- **

We enter the dining room hand-in-hand, and no one even gives us a second glance. I like that. It's like it was expected.

What's not expected is hostility from Esme. She's been nothing but sweet and gracious every time I've been around her. But not today. She hasn't even acknowledged me. Weird. She's standing at the island in the kitchen, chopping vegetables angrily. Her shoulders are tense, and she's mumbling.

"Sugar momma, the kids are all waiting."

"Bella and I are having a picnic," Edward says, correcting his dad.

"Oh, see? No one tells me anything. Just come in here to finish," Carlisle tells Esme.

"The next time you make dinner all by yourself after getting up early to do the laundry and have a full day of work in heels you can tell me how to make dinner. Until then—"

"All right, don't get all upset. It's just—"

Esme spins around, wielding the large knife like a dagger and pointing it at him. "It's just what?"

"Nothing, everything looks lovely. Doesn't it look lovely, kids?"

We all murmur our assent, and Rosalie joins her mom at the counter, scooping the vegetables into the salad bowl. They share some sort of secret mother/daughter code and bring everything to the table.

Edward heads into the kitchen and gathers a few things: plates, cloth napkins, and two forks. We're silent but exchange looks as we pass by the tense dinner table. This is so awkward.

"So you finally kissed my son, I see." Esme says, smiling brightly. It's genuine. Good to know she's not mad at me.

Edward stands with the backdoor open, waiting, but I feel like I have to respond, so I do. "What can I say? It was the tux."

"A tux'll do it every time," Carlisle says, winking at Esme who rolls her eyes.

"You have fun, kids," she says.

"We will," Edward says, and I duck beneath his arm, heading outside.

Our picnic is set up beneath a tall tree, flush with dark green foliage. An oriental rug sits on the grass and on it a basket with a baguette peeking out of the top. I kneel, taking it all in. The backyard's beautiful, filled with fruit trees, and roses of every color line the fence.

"Now don't get too excited because I don't actually cook, but I did charm a lady in a hairnet at Whole Foods. So . . ." He gets started right away putting my place setting before me. He rummages through the basket, pulling out four kinds of cheese, bread, knives, some sort of meat, and cut up fruit. He's quiet as he slices the cheese and peeks up to give me a soft smile.

I can't even . . .

Who is this guy?

Me likey.

He places a few chunks of bread with all the fixings on my plate before saying, "Voila. Romance, n'est-ce pas?"

Is he kidding me? This is the most romantic thing ever, but, being me, I say, "Comme ci comme ça."

He laughs, then says, "That's 'cause there's no candles yet." He pulls matches from his back pocket and stands, lighting a few votives inside glass jars that hang from the tree.

This is just . . .

We eat in silence, and, wow, this cheese is delicious. Edward giggles, eyes crinkling in the corners when I moan over a mouthful of bread and soft cheese I've never even heard of.

"Wait 'til we get to the chocolate."

"Chocolate? I'm done." I set my plate to the side and scoot forward. He follows suit, but doesn't dig in the basket. Instead, he cups my face and kisses me softly. His mouth is warm and inviting, and I want to curl up on this rug and never leave. Like ever.

He releases me from the kiss and hums. "Mmm, j'aime le fromage."

"Mmm hmm, but, j'adore votre baisers."

He kisses me again: soft, wet, and warm. "Merci. We should only speak French to each other. It's hot."

"I don't know much else."

"Me either. Nothing PG, anyway. So, chocolate?"

"Gimme, gimme," I say, making grabby hands.

He pulls off a square of dark chocolate with sea salt. We lay side by side, and he feeds me, each time holding it farther away so I have to get closer to him.

"This is great," I say, not able to say the right thing. This is far better than great.

"Good chocolate, right?"

"Yeah, but this . . ." I say, swinging my arm around in there air. "It's really beautiful. Thank you. No one's ever done anything like this for me before."

"Well, I am awesome, so . . ."

"You are. I hate to admit that, but you know . . . so why didn't you tell me about Rose?" I ask, shifting our mood and topic of discussion.

"She's my sister," he says, like _duh_. "It was her story to tell. I dunno. She's been through a lot. She's cool. We're close, which is nice since she's a girl. She knows what you crazy females are thinking."

"Hmm, then why didn't she give you any advice?"

"She did."

"She did?" I ask incredulously.

He scrunches up his face, his top lip drawn up to his nose, making me laugh and poke at his lips. He bites my finger but releases it quickly. "Calm down, love dove, it doesn't mean I took it. Wish I would have, though. But . . . whatcha gonna do? I'm a slow learner. Though, maybe we could've avoided the whole Mike/Angela fiasco."

"Maybe. Then again it was Mike's kiss that made me realize—" Edward cuts me off by plugging his ears. Such a baby. "It's true," I blurt, pulling at his fingers. "And had you listened that night in the car, you would've known that that's what made me realize that I liked you."

"That's just pathetic. I still don't know how you didn't know. I knew from the first night we hung out that you were attracted."

"Attracted and liking someone are very different."

"Tomato, tomahto."

"How long had you liked Angela?" I ask, curious but not sure I want to know the answer.

"I dunno, but we've been in English now three years in a row. We've been friends the whole time. She was just sweet and saw _me_, not just the flirt. She talked to me like a person."

"Oh," is all I say. Does that mean I don't know him very well? I tuck that thought aside for now and focus on Angela. "So how'd she take the break up?"

"It was so simple. Easiest split I've ever had. I told her that I liked someone else, and she said, 'It's Bella, right?' What could I say to that?"

"Wow."

"Yeah, and she did the rest. Told me she still wanted to be friends, and she just wanted to have a fun prom night. So we danced, had a good time, then I took her home and said goodbye. And then I called your mom." He gets a devilish gleam in his eyes.

"Yeah, thanks for that. She was inside flashing the lights off and on for us."

"Hey, man, whatever works."

"It worked. Kept me from kissing—"

Edward covers my mouth with a firm hand and grins. I think he's done hearing about Mike. I'm done hearing about Angela, so I guess it's only fair. I lean in, his hand still on my mouth, and he releases me, once I'm at his lips.

We spend a good half hour getting to know each other's mouths before I head home for the night. Tomorrow should be interesting. I don't know how we'll keep our hands off each other at school.

**A/N:** So my computer is a turd . . . thus this late night post. My mojo is MIA. Send me pics and music and anything dirtyflirtward related. That'll help! I hope! *fingers crossed*

Perry's home from the hospital. Yay! Thanks for sending her love.

Vampshavelaws reviewed Take What You Want on The Lemonade Stand. Take a gander at her pretty words about our dirtyflirtward.

Thank you so much for continuing to read this silliness. I'm having a blast. Every review and tweet and pm makes me smile. Wish I had all the time in the world to chat with you all and reply to your kind words. Alas, I'm a mom. I have no time. Basically, I shouldn't even be doing this, but a girl's gotta have some fun, right? Yeah, that's what I keep telling myself.


	17. Chapter 17 Suffer in Silence

**Take What You Want**

**Chapter 17**

**Plot Generator—Binding Blurb: on suffering in silence.**

**Playlist: Clumsy by Fergie**

My life is stupid.

As I sit in French, Edward's words from the previous morning roll through my mind. _"I just want you to remember that you did this, all right?"_

He sits across from me, freshly showered, wearing cologne – at school, mind you – and biting into a freshly baked chocolate chip cookie. The chocolate falls away from the cookie as it breaks and drapes itself on Edward's thumb and forefinger. He looks straight at me as he wraps his lips around his thumb and sucks the melted goodness from it.

Gah!

I shake my head and return my eyes to my textbook, trying to follow along with Ms. Benson's lesson. I'm complete fail, though, as Edward's thrusting his finger in my face asking me to lick it with a simple, "You know you want to." As I shake my head, thwarting his advances, Alice giggles behind me.

I snap my head to see she and Jasper are outwardly laughing at my expense. Awesome.

I make it through French relatively unscathed, though certifiably left wanting.

Edward walks behind me on the way to my locker. He says nothing, but I can feel his eyes all over me. Dammit, this is hard. I just want to kiss him already.

A tinkling sound catches my attention, and when I look down to see what it is, Edward's at my feet with a pen in hand. Apparently, he dropped it. He drags it up my calf and thigh, his eyes on mine as he goes. I lean back against my locker, mouth agape like a fish.

With one hand braced on my locker, Edward says, "All you have to do is give me the say so and I kiss you right now. We could ditch our next class too. If you want . . ."

He leans in inhaling, while I exhale. Oh, man . . .

Edward kisses my cheek and chuckles. He walks away with a smug look on his face as though he's winning. What? I don't know. But I should have known that he'd still be playing games. Edward's whole life is a game. And now I'm a part of it. Grr!

Lunch is interesting. Mike and Emmett sit with their crew, but Angela remains where we are, sitting by Alice and chatting with all of us. "Would it be weird if I dated a sophomore?" she asks.

"Why would it be weird? You should be a sophomore," Jasper says.

"That's true. He is my age."

"Who is?" Alice asks.

"Ben," she says, smiling. Her eyes dart to Edward's, and he grins back.

"He's really sweet," I say.

"Yeah, and we go to church together and everything. I've known him for a long time, but things got kinda weird when I skipped grades."

"I could see that. Guys and their big, dumb egos," Edward says, taking a massive bite of his meatball sub, the marinara leaving a mess behind on his face.

I take the initiative to wipe his stupid, smiling mouth. He kisses the air when I'm done, and I shake my head. "I can't take you anywhere," I say,

"Not that you would . . ." Edward says, an edge to his voice.

"Wh-what's going on? I thought—" Angela begins, but Edward interrupts.

"Yeah, I thought so too," Edward says cryptically.

"Edward says you're okay with us, but—"

"I am," Angela says, nodding. "Don't worry about me. I think you guys are a great fit. To be honest, I was surprised he even made it through prom with the way he was looking at you."

Edward's eyes dart to mine, and a wide grin spreads across his face.

"Oh my word, you didn't?" she says, then bursts into a loud guffaw complete with cute snorting.

"You are the best ex-girlfriend ever," Edward says, and she high fives him.

"Does Mike know?" she asks.

"No," I blurt along with Edward and Alice.

"He doesn't know any of it," I say. "I don't want him to. I don't want to hurt his feelings."

"Okay, my lips are sealed," she says, mime-locking her lips. "So what do I do about Ben? Do I just ask him out? Or take him on a date? Or what?"

"You're gonna do this already?" I ask, and Edward elbows me in the ribs.

"Why not? I like him, and I think he likes me. So why wait?"

"See!" Edward says, pointedly and takes another big bite of his sub, chewing in an aggravated way. "Go for it, Angie, love waits for no one."

"Thanks," she says, taking a delicate bite of her strawberry and smiling close mouthed. She looks about eleven, and I hate that I can't hate her at all.

Edward's relatively quiet in Entrepreneurship, but he does invite me over after school to study. Which sounds like a really, really good idea because I need to "study". Bad.

**-TWYW-**

"Why was your mom so pissed at your dad yesterday? What did he do?" I ask as Edward ushers me to his room.

"Who knows? I can't keep up with those two." He opens the door but not very wide as it's hindered by a bunch of crap behind it.

"Are you sure it's okay that I'm here?"

"Mom said it was fine. She must really like you," he says, plopping onto his bed spread eagle.

"Why's that?"

"Because usually I have to do a bunch of chores when I get home, but when I told her you were coming over she gave me a free pass."

"Those're rare, right?"

"Very rare. Normally, I'm just a slave under her rule. And Rosalie doesn't help because she was blessed with an extra X chromosome. I always get stuck doing all the manual labor. My fingers get all raw and delicate, but I just suffer in silence." His words are wimpy and silly, but I love them. I climb over the various mounds of muck in his room and crawl onto his bed, propping myself up on my forearms so I can look at him.

"Poor baby. I'm glad you have a Y chromosome, though."

"Me too, 'cause it made me this way." He swipes his hand above his body, and I giggle.

"It made you hot?"

"You think I'm hot?"

"No," I say, dragging his pillow under my arms.

"Yes, you do. You thought my tux was hot."

"Well, that, yeah. Ooh, any guy in a tux, I mean Mike was—"

"Get outta my room," he huffs, a fake scowl on his face.

"Aw, but then I couldn't do this." I tug his shirt with one hand in a motion to get him to follow me. He does, and we roll until he hovers over me. I like this so much.

He stares at me and doesn't do a damn thing. Well, this is disappointing. I lick my lips, and his eyes dart to watch the tongue action. I give his shirt a swift yank, and he collapses on top of me, kissing me. Finally. We're sloppy, a little bit crazed, and a lot excited.

"I can't believe I'm kissing you in this nasty room."

"Yeah, you must be hard up." I wait for him to make some comment about his sexually charged flirting today, but he doesn't. Instead, he says, "Mike must've really left you unsatisfied."

"He didn't," I say, laughing and add, "Will you ever give it up?"

"No," he says through a chuckle.

Edward squishes his face up like it's so grotesque. "Tell me something awful about Mike."

"No."

"Yes."

"No." Wow, he really hates him. Mike's a nice guy.

"Fine, not gonna kiss you now."

"Good, 'cause this room is so gross. It seriously smells like a hamster cage."

"You're the one who threw out my pretty, smelly thingamabob. Besides, I could get you to kiss me."

"Whatever."

Edward rolls to the side, facing me. He strokes down my temple with his fingertips.

"You know I'm not gonna let you get away with this fingernail garbage anymore, right?"

"Anything for you." He runs his hand down my arm and laces our fingers together, bringing them up in front of us.

"And if you smell . . ." I scrunch up my nose to demonstrate what that's like. "I don't think so."

"Okay," he says, scooting forward and pulling at my bicep, so we're directly across from one another. "Remember when I told you I liked you in my bed?"

"Mmm hmm," I say, staring at our clasped hands that are now against his chest.

"I think about you here all the time. Like this . . ." He pushes some hair behind my ear and cups my cheek, guiding my face to meet his. He kisses me softly, his lips dragging against mine slowly. His breathing changes, and he wraps his hand around my thigh pulling me on top of him in one swift move.

Whoa.

I sit up, my hands on his chest, and he pulls me back down for another kiss. He lets my bottom lip go with a pop and chuckles. "I totally got you to kiss me."

Ugh! Cheater! I make a noise of disgust and smack his chest.

"It's your fault. You challenged me."

"Challenge this," I say, pinching his nipples.

"Yeah?" he asks excitedly, staring at my breasts. He reaches out quickly, but I drop to his chest. He tickles my sides, the both of us laughing.

"Geez, you're so annoying."

"I know."

"But you're so good at this," I admit not wanting to.

"I know this too. Okay, so I'd love to mack all night, but I actually do have homework."

I quirk an eyebrow in challenge, and he kisses me again, long and hard before grabbing his backpack and heading out to the kitchen table where we hunker down.

"Angela usually looks these over, but she spent the whole period constructing a letter to Ben. You willing to proof it?"

"Sure," I say, reaching out to grab his paper.

I read it over, adding in a few commas and asking clarifying questions. The paper's a persuasive essay on abortion – pro choice – and it's really good. Not only are his arguments sound, but his writing is superb. Better than some stuff I've seen in my honors class. Better than some of my own stuff, if I'm being honest.

"I didn't catch much," I say, handing it back.

"Is it too heavy?"

"No, I think you hit some good points and kept it non-judgmental. It's really good."

"Um, thanks," he says sheepishly, tucking the paper into his folder.

"Why aren't you in honors English?"

"I don't want to be."

"Is it really that simple?"

"Yeah, I'm kinda lazy. I figure good grades are good grades. You can get scholarships whether you're in regular classes or honors classes, so why do the extra work?" He shrugs, not making any apologies. I don't know how I feel about his laziness, but I certainly admire his honesty. He makes some good points.

"I can't argue with that."

"Mike has a dream to be a congressman. I just want a plain ol' job with a modest house and a hot girl at my side."

"Sounds good."

"It will be. I'm working on the hot girl part."

I smile and give Edward what he really wants: demeaning gossip about Mike. "Mike can't figure out homophones."

"What?" he asks, laughing.

"They're, their, there. He gets them wrong every time."

"He does?"

"He does."

"I like you so much."

"I like you too."

Edward grabs hold of my neck, kissing me fiercely. He tugs my arm, and I maneuver myself onto his lap where he holds my hips firmly. With my hands braced on his chest, our kissing is hot, sloppy, and loud. We do not care. His hands run over my back, and he latches onto my neck, sucking hard and making me whimper. This is amazing. Edward groans and slows the kiss, his hands moving up into my hair. He kisses me beneath my ear, and in a whisper, begs, "Hold my hand tomorrow at school."

"We'll see," I say, coyly and kiss him again until his mother comes home from work.

**A/N:** My computer's freaking me the hell out. I edited four chapters last night, and none of them can be opened now. Lucky for me (and you, I guess), I'm brilliant and backed up my work last night. This is terrifying me! Hallelujah for flash drives!

Thanks to Cejsmom and _ss77_ for talking me through my slump and ensuring me that what I'm writing isn't crap. I'm getting through it, and the doughnut I ate yesterday while writing helped too. Ya'll are gonna make me obese.

Thanks for reading, reviewing, tweeting, and being so cute!


	18. Chapter 18 Eavesdrop

**Take What You Want**

**Chapter 18**

**Word Prompts: Eavesdrop**

**Playlist: Can't Get Enough of You, Baby by Smash Mouth**

**Your Love is My Drug by Keisha**

Edward meets me in the parking lot in the morning. He's all smiles as I exit Alice's tiny car.

"Hey, pretty gum drop." He reaches out to hold my hand, but I grab the strap on my messenger bag instead, earning a frown from him. "You said—"

"I said, 'we'll see'."

He runs a hand through his hair, then rubs his neck. "You're a hard sell."

"You know my reasons," I say.

"And you know mine."

"I do." He just wants to say, S_crew you, Mike_. It's so harsh.

He shrugs and shoves his hands in his pockets, walking beside me into the main walkway. It feels weird, like something's shifted between us.

"You guys look dumb," Jasper says, sauntering toward us. "Edward's not touching you at all. He's always groped you in some way. This's strange."

Edward thrusts his open palm out as if to say, _See!_

And I guess Jasper's right. We're being even more careful than we ever were when I was dating Mike. And I haven't even seen him anyway other than from afar in the halls or at lunch. This is a tad much, I decide, so I pull on Edward's hand and slide it around my waist.

"Better?"

He grins in response, leans in, and whispers, "Nice hickey."

I roll my eyes and pull my hair forward to hide it.

Edward spends French class sending me bilingual notes, and I know for certain that his story about getting kicked out of his former French class is true. The boy is writing some dirty, dirty things. I don't know if I hate it or love it. Probably the latter, but I'd never admit it. Though I'm sure the blush on my face does that for me.

At lunch we help Angela plan her date with Ben that Friday. The girl moves fast. Good for her. Edward and I fall into default mode, quickly slinging insults back and forth and laughing like fools. Jasper and Edward have a race, pushing Alice and myself in chairs across the slick linoleum. And then we get kicked out. Good times.

It's late in the school day, and I'm waiting for Edward to show up to Entrepreneurship. When he does, he's out of breath and a little bit sweaty, though he doesn't stink . . . yet.

"Guess what I just heard?"

"What, eavesdropper?"

"You know Lauren, right?"

"Yes," I say tersely, thinking back to him kissing her in the hall when he was trying to hurt my feelings.

"Mike has a date with her this weekend."

"Oh?"

"Yep," he says, rubbing his hands together like an evil genius. "Now it's you and me, sweet thing."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"He's moved on; he doesn't care."

"I care, and I don't want people speculating about us."

"How long do you expect me to wait?"

"It's been one day," I say, laughing.

"It's been two. And both have totally sucked sweaty butt."

"Ew, keep your sweaty butt to yourself."

"I'm serious."

"I'm serious too," I say, pulling out my stuff as the bell rings.

Edward comes over after school, and Mom invites him to dinner. We eat as a family, and through my father's genuine interest in Edward, I learn that he plans on being an architect. I had no idea. I really need to learn more about him. I know that I like him. I know that he makes me laugh. I know that we work well together, but I need to make a better effort at getting to know him.

With that in mind, I excuse Edward and myself to my room. No one's told my dad yet that he's my boyfriend, so he's still allowed there. Mom and I figured that was for the best.

"I didn't know you liked buildings and crap," I say but am abruptly hoisted in the air and dropped unceremoniously onto my bed while Edward makes airplane sound effects.

Edward hovers over me, stealing a quick kiss and laughing at my surprised expression. "Who cares?"

"I care," I say, giggling, but he cuts me off, kissing me again. He rolls us over, so I'm atop him, then sits up, anchoring me to him with his strong arms and a deep kiss.

"I care too," he says out of breath, then kisses me again, his tongue smooth and doing marvelous things in my mouth. "I care about this and us. And getting to do this whenever we want without worrying about other people. You worry too much about other people."

"I know. Huge flaw," I say, gripping his hair and pushing down on him while drawing his tongue out to play again.

"Mmm, keep doing that," he says, moving his lower half rhythmically against me.

Are we really doing this? Grinding against each other in my bedroom with my parents downstairs? This is crazy. I pull away momentarily, but that doesn't stop him. He ducks his head kissing my neck and sliding his tongue over my collarbone. His fingers push my shirt to the side so he can get at more skin. It's way too good. My breathing's out of control as are my hormones, and I'm starting to feel weird about this. It's too much, too fast.

Just as I'm about to move off his lap my phone rings on my nightstand. I get up quickly to get it, and Edward pouts, throwing his arms down dramatically with a thump on the bed.

I step away from him, but he yanks me back as I say "hello" to Alice. His legs are spread wide, and I'm standing between them.

"Hey, you remember Emmett's friend, Garrett?" Alice begins right away. We don't need any pleasantries.

"Yeah," I say, as Edward reaches out and unbuttons the two bottom buttons of my shirt. He pushes the fabric aside and kisses my belly button.

Holy crap . . .

"Well, he's doing another thing this weekend," she says, and I try to listen. I really do, but Edward's licking my stomach.

"His parents are gone again?" I ask, in a breathy, too-high voice, then clear my throat. Edward smirks below me, his eyes squinting.

"I'm not really sure. Emmett's not so good at the details, but he's going and Rose's going too, so I just thought you'd want to go."

Edward trails his hands up my waist and ribs and follows the collar of my shirt, unbuttoning the top two buttons. I can see my cleavage just looking down. There are only two buttons keeping my shirt in place. Edward peeks up, his eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, maybe," I say, but when I see the look of glee on Edward's face, I blurt, "No, not you." He chuckles, dropping his head to my belly.

"What are you doing? Is Edward there?"

"Yes, he's here," I answer her.

Edward mouths, "Sorry," before resuming kisses on my stomach. I don't think he means it at all.

"You two wanna go or what?"

"Uh huh," I say thickly, and Edward stands, taking my phone, turning it off and throwing it onto the bed.

"Uh huh," he repeats and lowers his mouth to the exposed skin at the top of my shirt. His kisses are strong, and the feel of his hands on my hips, makes me want to get on the bed with him and let him do whatever he wants, but that's just not me.

"Edward," I breathe, trying to clear my head.

"What, baby?" he says against my breasts.

I should really hate that he calls me baby, but I don't. I love it, and it makes me just want him. Maybe it has more to do with the timing of it as he only seems to say it when I'm felling all hussy-like. Then again, since I kissed Edward, I always feel a bit horny. Hmm.

I grab his face in my hands and kiss him hard, throwing our weight back toward the bed where we kiss and pant and make each other feel good for awhile.

I'm lying on his chest, my fingers drawing patterns on his stomach. "I really like kissing you."

"I do too. I like kissing you here and here and here," he says, demonstrating all over my body and ending with my throat where he kisses his ring and smiles brightly. "And I'd like to kiss you at school too."

"I think I'll be okay with that."

"Good," he says, getting up and gathering his things. He leans over and kisses me. He looks directly at my breasts, which are still fairly visible what with my shirt half falling off. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Hey," I protest, swatting at him.

"I'll see you too." He kisses me softly and says goodbye before leaving for the night.

**-TWYW-**

It's hump day, and my hormones are on high alert. How appropriate. I dreamed about Edward all night. They were good dreams – great dreams where neither one of us wore shirts. When I see him, I get out of my mother's car and call him over. He jogs to me, smile wide. I open the backseat door and wave my hand for him to get in. He quirks an eyebrow, and I shove him inside. "Hell, yes," he cheers, sitting down and patting his lap.

"Morning," I say, straddling him and giving him a minty fresh kiss.

We make out in the backseat of my mother's car for a while before needing to head to class. The windows are foggy, and I can't help it – the giddy girl in me draws a heart with our initials in it. Edward, on the other hand, draws an obscene picture of two stick figures.

We get out, and I close the door, inspecting his stick figures more closely. "Like I could even get in that position," I say.

"Not in this small car," he says, "but my van . . ."

"Your _mother's_ van, "I correct, walking away. "Gross, Edward, just gross."

"You're such a killjoy."

"I just lured you into the backseat of a car and let you fondle me, and I'm a killjoy?"

"You call that fondling?"

"Shh, not so loud," I say, giggling, covering his mouth, and walking backwards. "I'm a rookie," I add, shrugging one shoulder.

"We'll fix that," he says behind my hand then licks it.

I smear it across his face and take off. He captures me around the waist and lifts me off the ground, running with me toward the main building.

"What are you doing, psycho?"

"I said 'we'll fix that.' Just gotta find a place first. Heard there's a spacious janitor's closet in the science wing. At least that's what Jessica always told me."

Laughing, I slump at his side, so he sets me down. "She was such a skank," I say.

"She really was. I was always turning her down. Poor girl. Never got to try me out like she wanted."

"So who has, huh? Your sister says you're not as seasoned as you say you are."

"She needs to keep her mouth closed. She tells you too much."

"No, I'm glad she told me. I don't think it would've deterred me too much, but I like knowing you're not with me for just one reason."

"Who says I'm not?"

I smack his arm and walk away in a huff.

"I'm kidding, chicka, geesh. Her name was Valerie, and we met when we stayed with my Grandma before she died. I was bored outta my mind for weeks, and she was entertaining. And then she was _really_ entertaining. Older too." He wags his eyebrows.

"That's the whole story?" I ask, surprised.

"That's it. It was a great summer, and we—"

I make a great snoring sound, and he bumps my shoulder. "Huh? What? Sorry, I was bored by your fascinating tale of getting tail."

"Ooh, good one."

"I'll give you a good one."

"I think you're right. Okay, I gotta go this-a-way, mon bebe." He leans in for a kiss, but I duck and run away, waving over my shoulder.

During French Edward leaves me a quivering mess with his damn cookie again. At my locker he leans in like he's going to kiss me but pats my cheek and walks away. It seems we're both playing hard to get today, but I'm okay with that. We're being too obvious at school anyway and need to be more careful. I'd really hate for Mike to find out I've already moved on by catching me exchanging a kiss with Edward. That would be awful.

At lunch Edward starts a list, but he won't let me see it. He even leaves our table for another nearby to work on it. He writes, then peers at me, nibbling his pen and looks back down again, scribbling furiously. I have never wanted to see one of his stupid lists so badly in my life.

He's still working on it in Entrepreneurship and holds up his book cover so I can't see it. This is getting ridiculous, and I find myself getting hot just thinking about what he's putting on that dumb list that I really don't know anything about. For all I know it's a list of Christmas carols.

After school Edward surprises me with a Chinese fire drill and drives us to Lenscrafters where we actually decide together on a pair glasses for me. When I question him about the impromptu purchase he tells me, "They're for the list," like _Duh, didn't you know, sugar lips?_

And now when I imagine what he's saying, I add nicknames. I'm clearly disturbed.

I drop him off at his house for the night, but he sends me flirty texts all evening and calls me to tell me he's finished his list.

"That's not possible," I say, "We're so creative. There's no end to the list."

"I like the way you think."

"I like the way you kiss."

"I like the way you feel beneath me."

"I like the way you run your tongue over my stomach."

"I like the way you squeak when I suck on your neck."

"I do not squeak."

"You so squeak."

"I do not."

"Leave your window open, and I'll show you."

"Goodnight, Edward."

"Night, baby."

I inhale sharply and hold my breath. Why do I love that so much?

"I also like how you respond when I call you baby." He chuckles and continues to do so as I hang up on him.

**-TWYW-**

In the morning I've decided it's my turn to torture him, so I start my own list first period. And it's real too. A list of all the things I want us to do together. Sure, it includes things like _go ice blocking_, but it also has things like _give me a hickey on my inner thigh_. I hope to give him a glimpse of it, so he'll be a little crazy at school.

But, instead, when he tries to hold my hand after class and I deny him, he acts like a petulant child and stomps through the double doors, grumbling.

Why can't he just deal with this like an adult? He's being so silly. And it's not like I'm denying him in any other way. We make out every second possible when we're not at school. Geesh.

He's studious in class and quiet at lunch, picking at his food. What a big baby.

After school he stays to play basketball with Emmett, so I head home by myself.

Once there he texts me.

_Rose wants you to come to dinner_.

When I get there Esme's in the kitchen slamming things around, and Carlisle's standing next to the fridge looking unsure of what to do.

Edward shrugs and takes me to his room. He hasn't really said more than hello since I've been here. It's so weird being silent with him.

His room has not been cleaned, not even to his standards, and what's worse is the room reeks. He did not shower, but he changed and left his damp clothes on top of the hamper. His shoes and filthy socks are strewn throughout the room too. I think I might have a coughing fit.

"This is beyond foul. Too much stench in one small area. Can't you at least put that laundry in the barn where it belongs?"

I cover my mouth and nose with my arm, but Edward's not fazed by it. What's weird is he would usually laugh at my display of distaste, but he doesn't. He seems apathetic to my discomfort. I'm not liking it one bit. I want a witty comeback at least. That's how we work. Doesn't he know that?

"Let's just go eat," he says, heading back out, passing me up.

I bump into Rosalie in the hall, and she gives me a strange, bitchy smile.

What the hell is wrong with the Cullens today?

We all sit at the table, and no one will look at anyone except me. Carlisle and Esme smile my way, but everyone else seems pissed at somebody.

"How are your classes, dear? Edward says you have two together. How's that going?" Esme asks.

"It's good . . . except when he tortures me by eating a chocolate chip cookie next to me."

"Edward, really? You can at least share with the girl."

"I ask her all the time if she wants some, but she just denies me. Every time." The tone in which he speaks and the grim line of his lips tell me he's not talking about cookies. But I'm not going to give in to this because he's throwing a tantrum. If he wants to come out we can, but not in a way that will destroy Mike's self esteem. It just seems petty. Why can't Edward understand that? We need to be smart about this.

"Oh, hmm," Esme replies thoughtfully.

Rosalie locks eyes with Edward from across the table, then says excitedly, "Did Edward tell you about that trip we took to Cabo?"

"Rose!" Edward snaps, but she ignores him.

"So we're at this crappy hotel because it's all we could afford after airfare because, hello, Cabo San Lucas, right? And there's all these old retired ladies around: in the halls, in the hotel restaurant, at the pool, blah, blah, blah. They all love Edward. All of them. He opens doors; he says hello; he's as sweet as can be. Polite, right?"

"Rose, really?"

"Shut up, Edward, I'm telling a story," Rose quips.

"Dad, this is embarrassing."

"Really, Rose, do you think—"Carlisle begins.

"Carlisle," is all Esme says, and it shuts him right up.

Rose glares at Edward, and he sighs. "We had a long day out sight seeing and came back. Edward and I decided to swim, just relax. Of course all the old ladies are out sunbathing and weirdo, here, is talking to them."

"They were nice," Edward defends.

"And one of the old bags," she says, completely ignoring him, "says, and I kid you not, 'You sure are cute. I bet if you learned to flirt you could get away with anything'." Rose points her fork at Edward, digs into her chicken dish, and takes a huge mouthful.

"I hate you," he says, shaking his head.

"Well, you're a manipulative idiot."

"I told you I was working on it."

"Clearly," Rose says sarcastically, but I'm not following any of this.

I'm not sure what to make of her story, but with Esme's mood and Edward seemingly not happy with Rose or me, I decide to let it go. He's been so grumpy today that even if I asked him about it, I don't think he would tell me what the point of it is.

The rest of our dinnerpasses smoothly, and by smoothly I mean no one died. I get up to do dishes when Esme shakes her head at me.

I sit in the living room awkwardly, while Edward does the dishes by himself and Rose scowls at me.

"It's true, you know. What I said. He generally gets what he wants just by flirting." I nod my head and chew on my fingers. Why is she telling me this? "Just talk to him, please," she says.

"I do talk to him."

"Not enough. And try listening."

"I listen."

"Well, you didn't listen to me. I warned you."

"Warned me about wh—"

"I have homework still, so . . ." Edward says, interrupting our strange conversation and nodding to the door. Apparently I'm leaving.

"Um, okay," I say and grab my bag, heading to the front door. "Thanks for inviting me to dinner."

"Yeah." Edward says it like he has to say something.

I lean in to kiss him, though when I do, I'm the only one engaged.

I drive home completely flummoxed. He is one moody, moody guy.

**A/N:** Er . . . Happy Valentine's Day! If I find the time today I may write a little something special. I also plan to post a Dirtyflirtward and Bella V-Day tribute on the blog. Hope you have a great day!


	19. Chapter 19 No Thanks

**Take What You Want**

**Chapter 19**

**Dialogue Flex: "No thanks, I'm trying to cut back," she said. **

**Playlist: Without You by David Guetta**

**At the Window by Double 0 Zero**

**Crazy in Love by Beyonce**

If I thought Edward's behavior was weird last night, then I don't know what to say about his behavior today. Maybe erratic would cover it.

Mike passes us in the hall on the way to French, and I chat with him for a second. Edward could stay, but he chooses not to.

"How are you, Bella?"

"I'm good. Busy. Studying for finals and finishing essays and whatnot."

"Yeah, me too. Just trying to go through my stuff. I think I might move out earlier than I thought."

"Your mom's okay with that?"

"She already said goodbye to my two older brothers, so I'm no big deal. I guess she's used to it. Anyway . . ." He scratches his cheek and looks around the hall. "I should be at Garrett's this weekend. You going?"

"Probably. Emmett invited the whole gang."

"Cool, so maybe I'll see ya there."

"Okay, see ya."

Well, that wasn't so hard. I can be friends with Mike, though I wish Edward hadn't run away. I think it would be good for him to see how un-affected I am by Mike. Too late now.

French is fairly normal, though instead of positioning my desk across from him, Edward puts me beside him. He keeps his hand on my thigh almost the whole time we work on our assignment. It's not a flirtatious move, but rather one of . . . ownership maybe? Whatever it is, I don't really mind. If this is what he needs to do to get through this, then so be it. It's better than having him pout like a toddler.

On my way to the cafeteria I'm pulled into an empty classroom where I'm mauled. Edward kisses me frantically, his hands running a circuit over my arms and back. He mumbles into my skin, but I only catch bits and pieces of his words: "different . . . terrifying . . . sexy as hell."

I don't know what any of it means, and I halt his kiss, stroking his brow and cheeks. He stares into my eyes for a moment before shutting his tight and hugging me. "Do we need to talk?" I ask, thinking back to Rosalie's words from the night before.

"I don't. No," he says, his mouth back on mine before I can respond.

We miss lunch completely and spend the full forty-five minutes in a desperate lip lock. It's unbelievably hot. I leave the room, every nerve alive, but wonder what Edward's not saying to me. This can't all be about me talking to Mike, right? He knows I'm no longer interested in him.

In our final class together Edward stares at me constantly. Sometimes he taps his head with his pen, other times he runs his fingers over mine, but the whole time he's quiet except to answer questions from our teacher.

The day's over, and kids crowd the hall saying their goodbyes and getting their stuff together for the weekend just like me. I stand at my locker packing my texts when I hear it for the first time today: Edward's loud laughter. But that's not all. It's accompanied by female laughter. Kate's.

I gape openly as he walks toward me with a little wave and a, "Hey, Bella."

"Um, what?" I ask, pointing at Kate, who giggles nervously beside him.

"It's nothing," he says to me, then leans toward Kate, saying, "I'll see ya later."

She slinks away.

"Um, just no," I mumble, slamming my locker. He doesn't say anything. "I'm not gonna put up with this garbage, Edward. Either you're with me or you're not."

"You don't act like you're with me. And you were talking to Mike today, so don't be a hyporcrite," he says, facing me dead on.

"A hypocrite? Mike and I are still friends, but that's it. And of course I'm with you. Geez! Is it just me, or are you hungry too? I'm starved 'cause some pervert trapped me in a room for nearly an hour to make out."

"I'm so sorry you're hungry. You should probably avoid that pervert then. Oh, wait, you already are."

"What is going on with you? You're all pissy and horny and flirting with Kate. I'm not following any of this."

"You know why I'm upset. I want this out in the open."

"Yes, I know, but it's not gonna kill you to go another week without—"

"Another week!" Edward punches the locker, and all eyes are suddenly on us.

"Why is this such a big deal? I just don't want to hurt Mike's feelings."

Edward spins around, pointing his finger at me. "Mike's feelings? _Mike's_ feelings? Are you hearing this? Are you even realizing what you're saying?"

"What I'm saying is I don't want to be a jerk to someone that I was with who was nothing but nice to me."

"You still care about him, don't you?"

"No, I don't. I just don't want to be a bitch."

"Too late for that."

"Excuse me, but you do not get to call me names just because you don't care about anyone but yourself."

"Oh, that's rich."

"I hate fighting with you. You're stupid and mean when you're mad."

"Well, why don't you find another stupid and mean guy to date because this isn't working!" He throws his hands up in the air like he's given up.

"No thanks, I'm trying to cut back," I say, sarcastically.

"Fine," he says, turning and storming through the double doors.

"Fine," I echo and turn the opposite direction.

By the time I get home I'm in tears – slow, non-stop tears. I don't even try to hide them when my dad comes home from work thirty minutes later.

"What's the deal? Why're you crying?"

"Edward's an idiot."

"What's wrong with Edward? He's a good kid."

"Well, good kid or not, he's a terrible boyfriend."

"Boyfriend!" Dad bellows. "How long have you two been . . ."

"Awhile," I say, shrugging and slump over on the couch.

"He was just in your bedroom the other . . . oh, your mother knows about this, doesn't she? You two are just . . ."

"I know. I'm a terrible person, but I don't even know what I did wrong, and he just kept yelling at me." I fall into snotty crying again, and my dad sits on the Lazy Boy next to the couch.

"You listen to me. You are beautiful and smart, and no boy is worth all this boohooing. You got it?"

"Yeah." I sniffle. My phone vibrates in my pocket.

It's Edward.

_I need to talk to you._

_You need to go to anger management, _I respond_._

_I don't know how to do this._

_You mean be a person? _Ain't that the truth?

_How can you still make me laugh after all of this . . ._

_Well, I'm not laughing. Not at all. I'm done crying for you. _I am. I don't want to cry anymore.

_You're crying?_

_You can say what you want about Mike, but he never made me cry. Never._

_I'm coming over._

_I don't want you to. You're malicious and spiteful._

_I know; I'm still coming over._

Five minutes later, I sit in my room by the window and watch while Edward argues with my dad. Dad's a man of few words, but look out when he's mad. He can sling insults with the best of them.

One time at Sears a customer service rep made my mother cry over returning a vacuum cleaner, and the male manager was in tears by the time my dad was done with him.

Dad won't budge, so Edward's stuck outside. Good. I don't want to talk to him now anyway. We'd just yell again, I know it.

I snuggle into my pillow on my bed for a nap. I need one. Ugh, and to think I woke up this morning excited to spend the weekend with Edward without worry. Boy, how a day can change.

My phone vibrates on my nightstand. It's Edward, but I refuse to answer it. It vibrates again, this time a text – three texts.

_Your dad won't let me in. I want to talk to you. _

_Open your window._

_If we're gonna make this work, I need your help. Open your damn window. _

My phone vibrates again, only it's Alice, so I answer.

"Hey, what is going on? Rose is screaming over here about you and Edward. Did something happen?"

"We had a fight."

"They had a fight," she says to whoever is in earshot.

"No shit, Sherlock." Emmett's words are loud and clear even though he's not on the phone.

"Do you want me to come over?" Alice asks, concern in her voice.

"It doesn't matter to me. Edward's texting me and bugging me. It might be nice to have a distraction, though."

"Bella, he's there. Rose says he's at your window. I think she's on the phone with him."

"Oh." I peer out my window. Edward paces below it, his phone in one hand his other hand moving rapidly as he speaks.

I open up my window just as he shouts, "No, Rose, don't! I will handle this!"

"You're gonna mess it up!" she shouts in the background.

"What is going on?" I ask Alice.

"Rose is threatening to go over there."

"Hmm, maybe she should just to piss him off."

"Bella says you can come over," she says to Rose.

"What?" Edward screams then looks up, dread spread across his face. "Let me talk to you," he pleads. I flip him the bird and shut my window. I'm done with his stupidity for the day. I need a break.

Not ten minutes later, Alice and Rose come to visit me. Jasper and Emmett are here too, but they stay outside in the boys' club. Apparently we're seven and boys and girls have different cooties so they have to be confined to different spaces.

"You here to convince my daughter that your brother's some great catch?" Dad asks Rose.

She waves her hand in his face and says, "Hardly. I'm here to tell her how ridiculously ignorant and immature he is."

"Okay, then," he says and lets her inside.

Once in my room, she sits on the bed next to me, her hands on my shoulders. Edward's yelling outside at the top of his lungs, but I have no idea what he's saying since the window's closed. I can't stop glancing that way, though. Maybe I should've talked to him.

"Listen to me. I've been telling him from the beginning that he just needed to tell you what the real problem was, but he's just too stupid. He seems to think that you should know. If he didn't like girls so much, I'd guess he was gay or one of those kids whose gender is mixed up."

"Jasper had a hard time telling me his feelings when we first starting dating, but now we're pretty good at sharing our thoughts. It just takes time," Alice says, trying to comfort me.

"I don't see what the big deal is. Does he hate Mike that much? That he's fine just completely disregarding his feelings? I mean, I guess that's okay, but what about my feelings? I feel guilty about this whole thing and hurting Mike's feelings would just make it that much worse."

Rose walks toward the window and opens it up. "Last chance, Romeo!" she screams at her brother.

"Rose, don't you dare. Stay out of this. I'm here to talk to her. Just send her down. Bella! Come talk to me!"

I join Rose at the window and peer down. The look of desperation in his eyes breaks me a bit. "What do you have to say, Edward? Just say it now."

"This is embarrassing."

"Oh, and yelling at me at school wasn't embarrassing?"

"We were both yelling at each other."

"Because you won't tell me what this is about."

Rose turns to me and says, "See, the problem is that Edward's emotionally immature and doesn't know how to talk to anyone about anything serious—except for me and even I have to hold his hand through it. He gets it from my dad. It's hereditary, I suspect." She glares at Edward, and he scrambles up the lattice work that leans against our house. Holy hell, what is he doing?

He's a few feet away from us and shouts, "Rose, dammit! Stop!"

In response Rose blurts, "You're hurting his—"

"You're hurting my feelings, all right!" Edward shouts, the words echoing in my ears.

What? I'm hurting _his_ feelings?

Edward climbs into my room, dusting his clothes off. "I don't know how to do this. I told you that already. I've never had a real fight with a girl before – not one that I care about, anyway – and I don't want to lose you. But, dammit, you're pissing me off. Why do you care about Mike's feelings and not mine?"

"But I do," I say, forgetting Rose and Alice are even in my room.

"You do?"

"Of course I do. I thought you were just so intent on sticking it to Fig Newton. I didn't know I was making you feel bad."

"I thought you thought I wasn't good enough to be seen with."

"Edward, why didn't you tell me, you big dope?"

"I thought I could convince you otherwise."

"How?"

He nods to my bed, and I narrow my eyes at the manipulative moron in front of me. Seriously?

"Not just that," he says quickly, then adds, "And I told you he had a date. But logic doesn't work on you."

"Well, I felt guilty about it. But now I feel guilty about this. I'm not a mind reader. You could've just told me."

"And have you think I'm some emo guy, crying my eyes out at night?"

"I don't think that."

"You don't?"

"No. This all sounds normal to me. Stupid, but normal."

"Okay."

Loud footfalls clonk up the stairs, and we all cast our gaze on the door.

"Crap, my dad."

Edward gets one foot over the ledge of my window, and I run to him, throwing my arms around him. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," he says, staring at my lips.

I kiss him and pull away when my door thumps open.

"What in the blazes is going on in here?" Dad barks.

"Dad! We just needed to—"

Edward's actions interrupt my speech. He's jumped – but too far out – and bumped his head with a loud crack on the overhang of the roof. He falls with an "oof," but the guys are there to catch him. They plop him on the soft grass, cackling, after helping him.

"Edward! Oh, crap! Are you okay?"

"Idiot!" My dad says, shaking his head and sauntering out of my room mumbling about "putting some fear into him."

Rose, Alice, and I run downstairs to make sure he's all right. He's lying on the grass on his side, a glassy look in his eyes. I pull his head into my lap, running my hands over his arms, checking for breaks or something.

"Why did you jump?" I ask.

"Your dad's freaking scary as hell now that he hates me."

"He doesn't hate you."

"He does. I made you cry."

"It's okay. You didn't mean to."

He looks away, shame etched in his features. "I hate that I made you cry when Fig Newton never did. He's too good of a guy. Why didn't he ever make you cry?"

"He couldn't have made me cry. You don't cry when there's no love involved."

"Um, did you just . . ." His lips twitch into a lazy smile.

"No. No, I didn't."

"I think that you did."

"She did," Emmett whispers loud enough for us all to hear. There's a thump and an "Ow, Rose."

"Nope. Um, we should go . . . take you to the hospital or something. There's a big goose egg on your forehead and—"

"You're in love with me."

"Am not. We've only been together a week."

"That's not true. We've been together since December, and you know it."

"I think that bump is making you loopy," I say, deflecting. Everyone's just staring at us. Isn't anyone else concerned about Edward?

"You're loopy," he says, pinching my cheek, but I swat his hand away.

"Well, you're the moron that traded with Emmett to get to me."

"What's that?" Rose asks quickly.

I answer, "You know – how Edward and Emmett traded us. Well, information and whereabouts and whatnot to get the girl they wanted or whatever."

"Are you kidding me? Is she kidding me!" she hollers in Emmett's direction.

He cowers and ducks his head before she takes a swing at him. He comes to Edward's side and helps him up. Edward takes two steps and falls over, holding his head and groaning when he's down.

"Okay, he looks—uh, pretty bad, and I think Bella's right. I think he's the big concern now and not some barter system we set up for girls," Emmett says.

"We're cattle. They treated us like cattle. We live in the middle ages," Rose says, stunned.

"Take that knucklehead to the hospital before he dies here," Dad calls from the porch.

I frown at him, but he shakes his head and goes back inside.

Jasper and Alice leave immediately to see if Edward's parents are home so they can let them know what happened.

Emmett gets Edward into the car. He's still wobbly, so I let him lay his head in my lap. Rose drives all the while howling at Emmett and finding out the details of their deal. She's furious and not paying as close attention to the road as she should. As a result, we screech to a halt at a stoplight, causing Edward's head to crash into my chest.

"I'm tired," Edward says, trying to snuggle into my breasts with a cat's purr. Despite the fact that he's trying to take advantage of me while he may have a concussion, I can't focus on that. My mind floods with first aid information, and I try to remember what to do when someone's had a head wound. I need to keep him awake, that much I know.

So I talk to him the whole way there. I really hope he's okay . . . so I can kill him later for all of this.

**A/N:** Special thanks to Aidan_momma and modersafari1 for prereading for me along with my regulars: _ss77_ and cejsmom. Ya'll are awesome.

It's fun to see everyone's reactions to these two. They're all over the place. Some think Dirtyflirtward's being a big baby while others think Bella's being insensitive. I think they're both a bunch of immature dorks, but what else is new?

Up next: Dirtyflirtward on drugs . . .


	20. Chapter 20 Beside, Collide, Reside

**Take What You Want**

**Chapter 20**

**Word Prompts: Beside, collide, reside**

**Playlist: You Got Me by Colbie Callait**

**If You're Wondering if I Want You To (I Want You To) by Weezer feat. Sara Bareilles**

After Edward's admitted to the ER, I sit awkwardly with Emmett and Rose while she stares him down. She's done yelling, but I quite preferred that to this – death by stink-eye. She's scary.

"Rose, if you just—" Emmett starts, but Rose cuts him off.

"If I just what? Think about how much you care about me? How much you _love_ me? True love doesn't start with a deal," she balks.

"But what about—" He picks it up again, and this time I shut him down.

"I agree with Rose," I say.

"You agree with me? _You_? Like that means something. You can't even detect when your boyfriend is mad at you."

Uh oh. Now she's channeling her anger at me. And it doesn't seem to be ending anytime soon.

" . . . And he was all sullen and not kissing you. Really, Bella? Edward not wanting to kiss? Hello! Right there, honey. Open your eyes. If you're going to do this, you've gotta be able to read Edward's nuances. He has no clue what he's doing, but clearly neither do you. You should probably just break up now and avoid the heartache 'cause it sucks."

Without another word she stands and walks away, leaving Emmett and me in the lobby with crying infants and a man coughing like a seal.

"So . . . how 'bout them Cullens?" Emmett says with a smirk.

"Yeah, you're telling me. I know I don't know much about relationships, but it's a give and take, right? And Edward's never serious. Even when he's serious, he's not, and he's not sensitive about anything. We pick on each other constantly. That's what we do. How was I supposed to know what was going on? I don't know. I mean, I made mistakes too, but . . . hmm. We both learn from each other and our own mistakes, right?"

"Yep, and we forgive each other. Do you think she'll forgive me?"

I shrug.

"Crap. I need Alice. When's she getting here?"

"I just talked to her. She said she just got a hold of Esme. They're both on their way."

Emmett slumps his head forward and scrubs his hair.

"You really love her, don't you?"

"That obvious?"

"To an outsider. But isn't it always easier when it's not your relationship?"

"I guess."

"You tell her yet?"

"No." He shakes his hands out like it's terrifying.

"Why not?"

"I just can't . . . just not . . . I don't even know, I guess."

"Wow."

"What?"

"Guys are dumb."

"So when are you gonna tell him? Like _really_ tell him?"

"I don't even know if it's true. How does anyone know?"

"You know. You just might not be willing to admit it yet."

"I'd admit it to him."

"I mean to you. You might not be ready to admit it to yourself."

"Ugh." I let out a long sigh and spread my legs out, resting my forearms on my knees. "I wish I was a lesbian."

"I think Edward would like that."

"Oh, geez. You're just as bad as he is," I say and smack his arm.

He shoves my shoulder, and we commence a sibling-like shove-fight. I'm laughing and kicking Emmett's shoulder when the door pings, and in waltzes Esme. She rushes to the counter asking for Edward. Her hands shake when they hand her a clipboard. She turns, and once we're in view her eyes widen. "Is he . . . uh . . ."

The automatic doors ping again, and Esme drops her stuff and runs toward it – toward _him_ – her husband, Carlisle. She's in tears and smothers her face into his neck. He wraps his arms around her back and pulls her in close, shushing her. He kisses her forehead and strokes her brow, her cheeks, then gives her a peck on the lips. "It's okay, sugar momma, everything's okay. He'll be fine."

He takes her by the hand and sets her down beside me, crouching low to pick up her things. He hands them to her, but stays down there, kneeling at her feet, his hands rubbing her thighs. "Edward will be fine. It's just a bump. Remember—remember that time he jumped from the roof into Craig's pool? He was fine then and had to get stitches. He'll be all right."

"Okay. Okay. Okay," she says, more to herself than anyone else. "I'm being silly."

"No, you're being a great mom."

She leans forward, hugging her husband awkwardly due to their positions. "I'm so sorry, Carlisle. I love you so much. I don't care if you don't take out the trash everyday and if you can't ever remember what kind of dish soap to buy. It doesn't matter. I love you no matter what. Okay?"

"I know. I love you too." He leans in, and what I expect will happen – a chaste kiss – turns into something much more as Esme climbs into Carlisle's lap and kisses him like no one's even here.

A throat clears, and a man with a badge that reads _Dr. Reynolds_ stands before us. "Carlisle and Esme, right?"

Esme nods, and Carlisle stands to shake his hand. "Edward's done with his tests. We're just waiting for results. Would you like to see him?"

"Oh, can we?" Esme asks, standing and wringing her hands.

"Right this way, and you're Bella, I presume."

I nod with a blank expression. What does he want with me?

"Edward's requested that after his mother's done crying over his carcass that you come to see him since you love him. His words, not mine."

"Um, okay," I say and swivel my head to a chuckling Emmett. I shove him again. He's an annoying brother.

"Oh, good, kick his ass for me, Bella. He deserves it. And I'm sorry I yelled at you, but you were stupid too. There's too much stupidity today, and I had to say something to all the guilty parties," Rose says, taking the seat beside Emmett even though she looks like she'd rather be anywhere else.

"Your parents just made up. In times of tragedy it's good to have people around that you love."

"Emmett, shut up," she says, scowling.

"So . . . how 'bout them Cullens?" Emmett says, and we both take a swing at him.

**-TWYW-**

"There she is," Edward drawls as I close the door behind me. He pats the top of the chair sitting next to his bed. "Right here, sweet tits."

There's a collective nurse gasp in the room. I want to laugh out loud, I do, but I can't because all I can think is, _akdlhfl;agut/j/fzbg_!

I sit beside Edward's hospital bed and hold his hand. His smile's goofy. Clearly he's on something good as he is completely uncensored.

"You have such pretty boobs," he says unabashed, and the nurse to our right giggles.

"Thank you, Edward," is all I say. This is embarrassing with a team of nurses milling about. At least his parents are talking with the doctor now and not in here with us.

"They're soft on my cheeks. I want to snuggle with them."

Oh, boy.

"You're so hot. Isn't she, Eva?" He turns his head to the nurse on his left, asking, "Wouldn't you say she's a hottie with a body?"

"I would." She nods, smiling at me, trying not to laugh.

"Can you believe it took her months to fall for me? But she finally did." He squeezes my hand. "And then she wanted to keep us a secret which made me so sad. I was a sad, sad boy." He leans over to whisper to her. "I resorted to flirting with someone today to get her attention. It worked, but then we yelled at each other, and I jumped out of her window."

"Very Shakespearean," Eva says.

"Yeah, I'm like Romeo, but with game." He turns back to me and smiles. "I got game, right?"

"You got game like the Wii," I say, earning a smile that reaches his wide, drugged eyes.

"Aw," he coos. "I know you're a nice person, but can we French kiss in front of Mike? Just once? Not right away, but, like, soon? I want to show him what he's missing."

"He's supposed to be at Garrett's," I offer, shrugging. Why not? I've gotta do something big. I mean, Edward's not the only one who messed up.

Thinking of what else I could do to ensure Edward that I do care for him, I slip the clasp of my necklace to my throat. He watches with rapt attention as I unfasten it, slide the ring off, and put it on my right ring finger. It looks nice.

"Damn, that's hot. Know what else is hot? Tattoos. You could get a small one just right _there_," he says, pointing at my boob and adding, "with my name on it."

Ignoring Edward, I ask Eva, "Is this normal? This drug-induced insanity?"

She chortles and goes about checking machines and making notes. "He seems to be especially open, but it depends on the patient, I suppose."

"Well, he's normally outspoken, but this is just . . ."

"You should've heard what he said about you when you weren't here."

"Oh, no." I say, laughing.

"He really likes you," she says, then pats Edward's arm.

"I really do," he says, a dreamy look in his eyes. He turns to the nurse at our right this time, speaking to her. "She says she's not in love with me, but I think she is."

"I don't love you," I say, huffing. It's not the time to be talking about this. We just had a huge blow up, and I've learned that Edward has so much to learn about communicating. I do too. Plus, he's on drugs.

"How can she not be?" he continues saying to the nurse, throwing his hand in the air, punctuating his words.

I wait for him to go on and on about his good looks and intelligence and dancing,

but he doesn't. Instead, his eyes focus on mine, and he says, "I have more fun with you than anyone I know. In fact, I think I don't love you too, Bella." He smirks and closes his eyes, still smiling, and drawing my hand up to his lips to kiss it.

He is so complicated, and, dammit, maybe he's right. Maybe I do love him. Shit. This wasn't supposed to happen so fast.

"If you're done, um, not declaring your love, do you think you could rest a bit, Edward?" Nurse Eva asks.

"Sure, Eva. Anything for you. And when I wake up can Bella give me a sponge bath? She hates when I stink." His nose scrunches up, and he giggles like a little boy.

Laughing, I pull my hand back gently, so I can go. But he grips it tight, not letting me budge.

"You don't have to leave. Don't leave. I don't want you to leave. Stay right here. I like your eyes on me, baby." I make no other move to get up. He exhales in a sigh and strokes his ring and my fingers on his chest. "I think maybe I have had a crush all this time . . ."

Edward snuggles with my arm, whispering, "If you're a bird, I'm a bird," into my palm.

Gah! The Notebook references! When he looks all innocent and is declaring his non-love. Is this a joke? How can a girl resist?

I do my best not to climb into bed with him and strip naked. He strokes my knuckles with his thumb and drifts off.

What a crazy day.

**-TWYW-**

_Brrvrrm! Brrvrrm! Brrvrrrrrrrrrm!_

I jolt awake to the insane noises coming from outside. What the hell is going on?

I shuffle to the window and pull my shades up. Dad's outside with a chainsaw, hacking up the lattice work, making sure Edward can't get into my room again, no doubt.

I shower, dress, and head downstairs. Mom's making pancakes.

"Any news?" Her eyes are wide, bright. She's such a morning person.

"No, Mom, not since the last time you asked. He's probably still sleeping off the drugs or whatever."

"I'm just so worried."

"He'll be fine. Have some faith."

"Do you think he needs something? I could make him dinner or dessert? Or he likes video games. Maybe I could get him a game or—"

"Mom . . ."

She shakes her head and smiles, holding out a flipper with a pancake on it. "Flapjack?"

"Thanks." I take it from her and eat it plain with my hands.

"I just hope this doesn't scare him away or Charlie or, well, I hope you guys work out your problems. Edward's a good kid, Bella. Give him a chance, okay?"

"I am. We talked a bit yesterday, but we need to talk some more. Preferably when he's not doped up and calling me sweet tits."

Mom covers her mouth with the pancake flipper but cannot shield the laughter that rushes past her lips. She doubles over giggling, the utensil clanging to the ground as she steadies herself on the countertop.

"I'm so glad we amuse you."

"Oh my goodness! He didn't. Sweet tits! Ah ha ha!" She goes on and on, laughing while she scrubs the spatula clean and resumes making breakfast.

"What's so funny in here?" Dad says, a small smile on his face.

"You sorta had to be there," I say, and Dad frowns.

"Oh, no you don't. You two have to stop this keeping secrets thing from me. Things are gonna be different around here from now on."

"Oh, Charlie, relax. You don't want to know anyway. Just eat. You're crabby when you're hungry," Mom says. It's true.

"I'm crabby because your daughter's boyfriend was in her bedroom last night."

"The room was full of people," I say, defending myself.

"And that makes it okay? Orgies will not be—"

"Orgies!" Mom blurts and starts giggling all over again. "My life is so funny. I just love you two."

I sit, chewing on my breakfast while Mom cackles, and Dad shakes his head. He washes his hands and digs into his stack of pancakes. "Mmm, good food."

"Thanks, honey. Well, I'm gonna head to the store so I can whip up something for Edward."

Dad grumbles, and I ready myself to visit said patient.

Once at the Cullens', I enter without knocking. Edward was released late last night with a clean bill of health and some pain killers. He was extremely lucky. When I get there he's fast asleep on the couch, drooling, while Sponge Bob plays on the TV.

I clutch my shirt over my heart at the sight. Damn, he's so cute. Why does he have to be so dumb? I know he's capable of saying what he wants, I just have to get him to trust me. Perhaps, though, showing him how much I'm willing to be his – to show him, _us_, off – will earn his trust. It's worth a try. My brain starts working out a plan straightaway.

I tiptoe past him and go into his pigsty of a room. I roll up my proverbial sleeves and begin to clean. There's nothing else to do while he sleeps, so why not?

Esme pokes her head in when I'm knee-deep in Edward's closet – where stench and death reside. She scrunches up her nose. "You don't have to do that, you know."

"I know," I say, then shrug. "I kinda want to."

"Okay. You know he's just like his dad. I'd like to say it gets better, and it does in some ways. In others, it, well . . . you'll see. I hope, anyway. You're good for him. He needs someone tough. Someone who can handle him and tell him when he's being an idiot, which you totally have my permission to do, by the way." She gives me a soft smile. "Just come out every ten minutes so you don't pass out from the smell."

I give her a thumbs up and hold my breath again as I sort out his sneakers from the trash. Good gracious, what is this crap? Pokemon cards, a Star Wars Burger King crown, a worn out Cosmopolitan magazine addressed to Rosalie. The lead article is _Innuendo as Foreplay? You Betcher Sweet Ass! _

I can't stop laughing and muffle my snorts with the crook of my arm. I love him even more now, dang it.

Two hours later, I sweep the remnants of Edward's war zone into a dust pan. It's the last of the trash to go.

I shuffle to the big black trash bag, dumping the rubbish and turn to find Edward standing in the doorway, scrubbing his hair. It sticks up every which way. He's rumpled and sleepy-cute.

"Hey," I say, smiling. I get on tiptoe to peck his cheek. "How ya feeling?"

"I'm fine. How are _you_ feeling?" He places his hand on my forehead, checking my temperature. "No fever. Must just be crazy."

"Not crazy. Bored," I say, looking around the room. There are still random items strewn about on his dresser, but, really, what was I supposed to do with the yo-yo, can of Spam, hand-labeled copy of Kid's Bop, and roll of ten Sports Illustrated swimsuit cover posters? Though, the last I just may burn.

"Find anything incriminating?" he asks, coming into the room, scanning it.

"Just your journal where you admit you've never met anyone as fabulous as me."

"You should know right now every time I write in my journal it's opposite day."

I shake my head, and he quirks a smile. "Hey, look, I'm homeless." He points to my homeless sign I posted on his ceiling.

I belly-flop onto his bed and wave him over. He crawls onto the bed, careful not to collide with me in any way. It's weird seeing him being gentle, but I guess he needs to be careful right now.

"It's better than mirrors," he says with a face-splitting grin.

"I don't know . . . mirrors might be fun," I mumble then throw my arm over my face. Why did I say that?

"You little slut," he says, pulling at my arm.

"Like you mind." I turn to face him, tucking my hands under my cheek.

"I don't." He mimics my pose and closes his eyes, looking dreamy.

"You really scared me yesterday," I say, my voice soft.

"I'm okay." He reaches out and pulls me in close by my waist, tucking my head beneath his chin.

"I'm not just talking about your head. You . . . I mean, you were ready to just give up so fast."

"I was mad. And stupid. You just have to ignore me when I get that way."

I tip my head up so I can look in his eyes. "That's not gonna work. You have to talk to me, Edward."

"All right, I will. Now put your head back down, I'm pretending you're licking my nipples."

A giggle bursts from me without my consent. Damn him. "I'm serious."

"I know. Enough. No more feelings."

"I mean it," I say, twisting his nipple.

"Ouch. Hey, I kinda liked that. Ooh, do it again."

I pinch his nipple, and he giggles, rubbing it. "You like it, huh?"

"Uh, yeah."

I tweak him again and scoot lower, scrunching up his shirt, exposing his chest.

"Help," he squeaks feebly, thrashing around as I straddle his waist. I grapple with his arms, finally holding them above his head.

I smile triumphantly and lower myself over him. He makes a sound between a groan and a whimper. I'm tempted to grind just to see what's going on down below, but I don't. Instead, I lean in, slowly torturing him along the way by dragging my nails down his arms. I run them up his stomach and over his nipples before diving down quickly and sucking one into my mouth with a loud slurp and a pop.

Edward clenches his eyes shut and makes another strained noise. If I had to give it a word, I'd guess he was saying, _afkndligo;lfhgba;oufdyb_!

"Edward?" I say innocently.

"Hmm-wha?" he says, apparently unable to finish saying a word.

"I love . . ." I lean back down and lick his other nipple – nicely this time. His abdomen tightens, and he holds his breath. "I love Chinese food. Are you hungry?"

I smirk, and he opens one eye, then props himself up while opening the other. "Starving." And I don't think he means for food. Eep!

Nonetheless, ten minutes later we're on our way to China Restaurant for cashew chicken and egg rolls.

**-TWYW-**

We sit on the grass, watching water trickle down a large porcelain fountain. Edward took me to a swank business center where he pointed out some pieces of architecture he loves. He also loves the small, Chinese-inspired garden – that sits amidst the buildings like a hidden gem – where we're currently eating our lunch.

Edward steals the last egg roll, cramming it wholly into his mouth, and I can't even complain. I've missed him – this. Our dynamic.

"What was Rose's point about that Cabo story the other night? I can't for the life of me figure it out. You guys were speaking in code or something."

"Ugh, she was being such a hag. So, those old ladies just made me realize that I could . . . I should not be admitting this to you, but . . . anyway, I learned that I could trick girls into stuff by flirting with them. It started small – like I got the flight attendant to give me three bags of peanuts and two sets of wings. Then when school started up I got girls to loan me pencils, get things for me, blah, blah, blah. The older I got, the more handy it became, and the more advantage I took of it."

"Um, yeah. You had Jessica trained."

"Like a dog," he says, then snaps his eyes up to mine realizing what he said. We both burst out laughing because it's true. Terrible, but true.

"Anyway, I was young when I started it. It just grew and so did my personality, and I turned into this."

"Hmm," I say, appraising him. "Not so shabby."

"No? Not disappointed?"

"Not today, no."

"So Rose was just trying to tell you what I told you, that I was trying to manipulate you into doing what I wanted you to do – to hold my hand at school and crap."

"It's not crap; don't call it crap. It's important to you."

"It's . . . yeah, okay, it is."

"Why do you want it so bad?"

"The truth?"

"No, tell me lies, please, because that will really help us out. Yes, dorkwad, the truth!" I point at him and glare. "Truth," I say annunciating clearly.

"Look, after Jake—"

"What's this gotta do with Jake?" I ask, taking a sip of our shared drink.

"You want the truth or not?"

"Yes."

"Then shut up and stop interrupting."

"I'm not interrupting. I'm—"

"Interr . . . upting," he sings, directing the song.

"Put that away, Mozart. Go ahead." He opens his mouth, but I interrupt again, "Wait kiss me first."

"I taste like Chinese food."

"And . . ."

"It's wicked awesome, yo." He gives me a kiss, then pulls me into his side, squeezing me.

"Okay, I'm ready. Wait . . . one more question. Why did this take us so long? You and me? If you liked me in junior high?"

"I blame Jake."

"You can't blame Jake. He didn't do anything wrong."

"He did too. He intimidated me."

"How? Did you have some sort of alpha male contest over me and he won?"

"No, he just . . . he made you laugh, and he talked to you so easily. I just couldn't do that. I wanted to make you smile the way he did, and I wanted you to look at me the way you looked at him."

"This is really sweet; keep talking."

He chuckles and gets quiet, his voice even, all silliness gone. "Look, I didn't like lust after you all these years, but that loss . . . it did something to me, made me want to change – to be different. And that summer when I met those ladies I just realized I had to do something or I'd get passed over for every guy that ever made any girl laugh."

"So Edward the flirt was born."

He shrugs, saying nothing.

"You may have gone a little overboard with it, don't you think?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. It got me you."

"It got you a lot of other girls too."

"None that really mattered."

"That's not true. You liked Angela."

"I did. I liked her a little more than a friend and thought maybe it could evolve, but it just didn't. I don't regret it. I mean, she taught me that I could be a good boyfriend. Sure, I still flirted with you, but I always liked you more anyway, so . . . I don't know. It's not an excuse, but I think I've always liked you more. Than anyone."

"You think?"

"I know."

"So what does holding my hand at school have to do with any of this?"

"You realize I could have answered you five minutes ago if you had not interrupted me like I asked, right?"

"Shut up and tell me."

"Look, I just . . . I've dated a lot of girls, kissed a lot of girls, but it never . . ." He rubs his arm, and I slide my hand into his. This seems hard for him to say. "I never wanted a girl the way I want you. I showed off the other girls because I knew they wanted to be spotlighted, but with you . . . I want to show you off because you're mine. I'm . . . for the first time, I'm . . . this sounds so stupid, but . . . I'm proud to be with you."

"I'm proud to be with you too."

He bumps my shoulder with an "aw."

"If we're done being all mushy, how about we go to Garrett's and show each other off?" I suggest.

"Hell, yes. Wanna make out first, though? We have some time to waste."

"Hell, yes," I say, mimicking him and straddle his lap without being invited. The toothy grin I get from Edward tells me there's none needed.

**A/N: A special thanks to moidernsafari1 for prereading in a pinch and making me giggle by laughing at Dirtyflirtward's drugged state. **

**Thanks to my twitter girls for answering the question, "What would Dirtyflirtward say to Bella if he was drugged?" I used all my favorites and was inspired by the rest. Another thanks to those who helped me figure out what Bella would find in his bedroom while she cleaned. You all are funny as hell. **

**I cannot believe how many reviews this dumb story has. I meant to write something stupid, and I did - I am - but you like it. And I find that weird even though I like to read stupid stories too. Of course I mean stupid in the best way possible. The point of my ramblings: I am so thrilled by the response this story is getting. After edgy Masen Days I didn't think this would get as much hype or nearly as many reviews. And it hasn't, but it's going strong and has a good following. So thanks so much for following Dirtyflirtward around like a puppy. He has you trained. Ha! (Please don't leave me!)**


	21. Chapter 21 Flicker

**Take What You Want**

**Chapter 21**

**Word Prompts: Flicker**

**Playlist: Get This Party Started by Pink**

**My Chick Bad by Ludacris**

My floor's covered in art supplies: tacky glue, glitter, fabric markers, rhinestones, and the like. Alice's hunched over one of our many projects when my mother yells for me.

"Shoot, he's here. Alice, crap, I'm not ready."

"You'll just have to do this later! I'll finish this one! Go, go!" Alice says as I start sifting through my closet for something to wear.

"Okay, um, blue or black?" I hold up two shirts. She frowns, so I blindly grab a third.

"Red," she says with a scowl. "Low cut. You owe him."

"I owe him? I _owe_ him? Owe him what?"

Alice falls into a fit of giggles. "You should see your face. Get your mind out of the gutter. I just mean guys like red. They equate it with sex. Or sexy lingerie."

"Bella, are you ready?" Mom calls, knocking on my door. "Edward's here."

"Just give me a minute, and I'll be down."

"Don't take long. Your dad looks like he might be contemplating where to hide the body," she says.

"Got it, thanks." I pull the shirt over my head and slip on some shoes. I pull my hair up, and Alice scowls again. "What? He likes my neck."

"I can see that."

"Oh, shoot. Dammit," I say, looking into my mirror and spotting Edward's love bites. "Okay, down then."

"You look fine. Go."

"Are you sure you want—"

"Get the hell out. I'll be done in ten minutes. I'll see it at the party."

"Okay, I'll be the one humping Edward's leg."

She doubles over laughing. "Can't wait to see that."

"Love you. Thanks. Bye."

"Bye. Have fun," she sings as I step into the hallway to save Edward from certain death.

**-TWYW-**

"How did you manage that?" I ask, stunned.

"I'm talented. What can I say?" Edward cocks his head to the side, and I kiss him swiftly.

"He's a man. You flirted with a man?"

"I did not flirt with your dad. I made him laugh. It eased the tension a bit." He adjusts his hands on the steering wheel and glances my way.

"You flirted with him."

"I did not. But I will say your mom, however, is highly susceptible to my abilities."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. How much you want to bet there are cookies in your kitchen when I drop you off?"

"That doesn't count. My mom's got a sweet tooth. We always have goodies. And she planned on making you something anyway."

"Whatever. Just saying . . . she kinda wants me."

"You think everyone wants you."

"Well, why wouldn't they?"

I shake my head, laughing.

"How's Rose? Still mad at Emmett?" I ask.

"He came over this afternoon. They were in her room, but I couldn't make out what was happening with all the yelling and thumping. She's a thrower like my Mom. And someone else I know." He glances at me, pointedly.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You threw your Crocs at me, killer."

"They're made of nothing. It wasn't going to hurt."

"Doesn't change the fact that you wanted it to, and that you're a thrower."

"Whatever."

"I liked it," he admits. He is so strange.

We pull up to Garrett's house, and the bass of the music playing inside reverberates through Esme's van.

"You ready to shake your bon bon?" he asks.

"Let's go shake it."

I slide my hand into his as we walk over the threshold and into the house. Edward's lopsided grin makes me so happy. Why didn't I do this earlier?

"Edward, hi!" Kate says, slinking toward us.

"Um, no," I say to her, pulling him away from the girl, although I can't stop him from waving goodbye to her. He gives her a silly pout, and I whack him on the shoulder.

"You're cute jealous," he says, tugging on my hair.

"That's right. Watch out, bitches, Bella's here."

The song changes into another, and Edward hops up and down, belting out the lyrics. He's so hyper. Maybe a side effect of his pain killers – or not. "Come dance," he yells.

I nod, and we weave through the crowd of bopping heads and loud laughter. Jasper and Alice are here already, waving from the kitchen. Emmett and Rose might be here, but who knows if they're over their spat. Doesn't sound like it.

Edward pulls me to him once we're in the living room where a small crowd is dancing. He sways his hips with mine, his hands on my waist, a smile adorning his gorgeous face. We finish out the song, and a new one begins with a hard hitting beat. Edward starts doing his own version of a white boy's krump while I cheer him on, laughing. Only problem is, the other girls cheer him on too, and one that I've never seen before gets up in his grill and tries to bump and grind with him.

I don't think so.

He was being silly, not sexy. Doesn't she know the difference? I raise an eyebrow, and he grimaces, clearly understanding that this is not cool with me.

I squash their connection by throwing him my fishing line, and he swims to me through the gyrating bodies, leaving the hooch behind. Damn, even when he's pretending to have gills he's cute. So cute I want to kiss him.

So I do.

Surrounded by loads of seniors we don't know, I grip his shirt and tug him forward.

"Well, hello, fisherwoman," he says, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Here fishy, fishy, fishy," I say while dragging him toward me, then draw him into a kiss.

My lips linger on his, my hands wandering over his shoulders and into his hair. He groans and releases me, but I go in again, not done yet. Why not? It _is_ a party.

"Okay," he says, pulling my hands from his hair, but I frown, kissing him again. "No, okay, um . . . I mean—"

"Shut up," I mumble against his lips and slide my tongue into his mouth. A loud wolf whistle carries through the room. _Emmett_. It causes me to stop for a second. I grip Edward's shirt in my hand and laugh. He's addictive.

I take a peek at Edward, and his eyes are bleary, looking dazed. "Okay, you can't just like—wherever and expect me to want to just—because that's like—and you're . . ." He peers down, staring at my cleavage. Apparently, I chose the right shirt. "I wanted to stroll around swinging your hand, but now—after that kiss—I just want to leave." He leans in and kisses my neck then says, "I've got the _van_."

"No way, Edward."

"I didn't mean—I just—"

"Could you pick a sentence and finish it?"

"You've got me all lust-stupid."

"Oh, is _that_ your problem?"

"Yes." His eyes go wide, and he nods sharply.

"Let's wait 'til Mike shows up. We can smooch-a-roo in front of him then go – wherever you want, I promise."

"Really?" he asks, excited.

"Really," I say.

**-TWYW-**

An hour later, Alice and I play cards at the kitchen table while the guys throw a ball around out back. Rose is not here, and I wonder if Emmett shouldn't be with her fanning her with a palm frond and feeding her grapes. It's none of my business though, so I don't say anything.

I adore Alice, but I'm really bored. This party's not as exciting as I had hoped it would be. And Mike's a no show, so that blows.

"I kinda want to go, but I wanted to make tonight a big deal for Edward."

"I wonder why Mike's not here. You did say he was coming, right?"

"Yeah, I mean, that's what he said. And earlier in the week Edward said he had a date with Lauren."

"Maybe he's off with her somewhere. Maybe they didn't make it to the party. Maybe they're _tied_ up." Alice locks her wrists together, and in a high pitched voice, says, "Oh, Mike, I've been a bad, bad girl."

I slump over the table, clutching my stomach as I laugh. That's just . . . ew, no.

A hand runs over my head, so I lift it, wiping tears from my eyes. "What are you laughing about, nutter?" Edward asks, eyes bright and happy.

"Bondage," I blurt, and he pushes me over with his butt, taking a seat next to me on the bench. The resounding grin on his face sends me into a giggling fit again.

Edward clears his throat and places both hands, palms down on the table. "Don't let me interrupt. Please, continue as you were, ladies."

I shove him off the seat hard, making him crash to the floor. I laugh at his expense until he drags me by the ankle to join him. I slip and slide around the floor, trying to get on my feet, but he keeps pulling me down while Alice draws a crowd by laughing – that inappropriately loud laughter that only happens after ingesting too much sugar.

Edward's resorted to tickling now, so I'm gasping for air, trying to get up. I can't, though, I'm too weak by all the junk food I ate. "This isn't fair; you're too strong!"

"Too bad, Giggly Spice, you started it."

"Then I'll end it!" I wrap my arms around Edward's waist and throw all my weight forward, sending his back to the kitchen floor. His head hits with a soft thud. I'm nervous for a moment, worried about his head injury, but the goofy way he's sputtering while pretending to die quells my nerves.

I lift my hands above my head in victory, shaking my fists. I grin proudly and press my hands onto his pectorals to get up, but he grips my hips before I can rise. It's then I realize I'm straddling Edward in the kitchen while everyone watches.

It's perfect. I can't let the moment pass. And word of mouth will spread our story to Mike.

So I uncurl my legs, sliding them along his as I lean down and kiss the hell out of him in the middle of Garrett's kitchen.

I can't be sure – because I was in a kissing-Edward stupor – but I may have heard some camera-phones going off. Oh, well.

**-TWYW-**

A smug Edward sits beside me on my kitchen floor, licking the ice cream between the freshly baked cookies my mother had waiting for us when we got home. Figures.

He's on his fourth ice cream cookie sandwich.

She invited him inside to eat cookies, then went to bed. Nice, Mom. At least she took my reluctant father with her, though.

"Your mom loves me," he says, taking a big bite.

"At least someone does."

"Aw, come on, hot sauce. Don't be jealous. Lick." He holds out his ice cream sandwich, and I oblige him with a lick – a good, long one, followed by a moan just because.

Edward tosses the dessert up and behind him – hoping it lands in the sink, I guess – and attacks me. The shock of his mouth hard on mine sends me careening to the tile where I wrap my legs around his waist. We're tangled legs and hands in hair and a thrust and a sigh and need and want.

I love this so much.

Edward crawls down my body, his hands tickling my exposed skin as he goes. He scrunches my shirt up, placing feather light kisses around my belly button before licking my bare skin from navel to shirt-covered bra.

Gah!

He peeks up once there then hovers over me before kissing me, deep and slow. My whole body relaxes beneath him, and I find myself oddly comfortable with what our bodies are doing. Probably too comfortable, but I can't seem to care because this is Edward, and I love him.

Crap!

Don't love him, I mean.

Our kissing slows down, but he's still just _right there_, grinding softly and kissing me while stroking my cheeks, my hair, and roving his eyes over my face. "I have to tell you something," he says, voice serious, calm.

"Okay," I say.

_I love you, Bella_, I imagine, feeling a flicker of hope for those words.

But they don't come. Instead, I hear, "I'm sensitive to dairy, so if you don't have any Gas-X, I should probably go now." He screws up his face, smooshing his lips to one side.

Oh my gosh . . .

I throw my hands over my face, and my body shakes with silent laughter at the chasm between what I thought he would say and what he did say. Only Edward could create this much chaos and ridiculousness inside my brain.

"You're totally making fun of me," he says, giggling into my neck.

"I'm not. I just—" I can't get out what I need to say because we're both cracking up too hard to speak, all the while trying to keep our voices down so Dad doesn't throw Edward out.

I finally squeak out, "Only you, Edward."

He kneels between my legs and shrugs sheepishly with one shoulder. "Is it cool that you're the first girl I've admitted that to?"

"Yes, I'm honored to know that you have farts on the way."

"You should be." I sit up, and he kisses my nose, hugging me. "Aw, we're all intimate and stuff."

I look into his eyes and decide to let it all hang out – just like Edward. "You know, I could use a trip to the drugstore anyway. I feel pretty bloated. I think I'm retaining water."

"I wasn't gonna say anything but . . ." He stares unashamedly at my breasts. "Your boobs seem rather jumbolicious today."

I give him a look of disgust while he continues to stare at my cleavage. He obviously has no idea what I'm saying. "I mean, I'm probably going to get my period soon, so I need to get some tampons."

"Oh, ew. Tampons? Really, Bella? That's disgusting."

"Oh, so bleeding all over the place willy-nilly is better?"

"Can't you just hang out it the bathtub for a week?"

I stare blankly at him and mumble, "Moron."

"Okay, let's go." He stands and pulls me up by gripping my wrist. "I'm buying tampons with my girlfriend," he says in a sigh, "who knew I'd ever be so whipped?"

"I did," I say, adjusting my boobs while Edward stares head on.

"Touché." He turns, grabbing his keys off the counter and walking away. "General rule of thumb after I've had dairy . . ."

"Yeah," I say, encouraging this conversation . . . why? Who knows?

He smirks over his shoulder all confident and stupid-cute looking saying, "Keep the windows down."

**A/N:** My prereaders, Cejsmom, _ss77, and Modernsafari1, continue to offer awesome insight into these two and make them much better than they were initially. Thanks for that! And thanks to everyone who reads and reviews this story. It's so fun conversing with you via the internets!

This story is coming to a close. Chapter 22: You Can't Please Everyone is the last one. The blog will be up before the weekend, and the chapter itself will be posted here on Tuesday! Eep!


	22. Chapter 22 You Can't Please Eveyone

**Take What You Want**

**Chapter 22**

**Word Prompts: Paste **

**Catch Phrase: You can't please everyone**

**Playlist: Party Rock Anthem by LMFAO**

**Praise You by Fatboy Slim**

**I Got a Girl by Tripping Daisy**

"How have I not smelled you stink it up before?" I ask, shutting the front door behind us.

"I'm tricksy. I know my limits, and I know when it's time to run. Literally."

"For example . . ." I say, getting into Esme's van as he does the same.

"Well, like cheese is not a big deal. It doesn't give me gas; it does other things. The next day _other things_." I raise my lip in disgust. This is so gross. "But ice cream and milk are the worst, so I just don't consume them around people unless I'll be heading out soon. And then boy is my family happy when I come home." Edward says jovially, swinging his arm in front of him in an oh golly, gee whiz fashion.

I chuckle at his animated response and leave it at that. I don't need to know anymore about his bodily functions, thank you very much.

We're on the road headed to the drugstore, and we're quiet for once. But the blasting music is not. As I try to change the radio station, Edward smacks my hand, barking. What a weirdo.

"Dude, I can't listen to this crap," I complain.

"It's not crap; it's fun. Besides, I like this one."

"It's a whole bunch of noise and digital drums."

"You danced to this song with me when we played on the Wii. You didn't mind it then. Then again, I was being awfully thrusty, and that sends the girls into a tizzy."

"_The girls?_ You're the dorkiest person I know."

"You say the sweetest things, love lump."

"Fine, listen to your crap." I give up, looking out the dark window and yawning. It's way too late to be out. Good thing there're twenty-four hour drugstores when you've got farts and a period on the way.

I close my eyes, resting my head against the seat. Edward strokes my cheek, alerting me to our arrival.

In the parking lot I stretch up on my tip toes and raise my arms up, clasping my hands, leaning to one side then the other. Edward watches, chewing on his thumb, lost in thought, apparently.

"What?" I ask, walking past him toward the store.

"I like you all stretchy."

"Aren't you too tired for innuendo?"

"No such thing. And you stretching has been my screensaver for a while now. I like it!"

"That's awful. Poor Angela."

"She didn't know. She was respectful of my stuff."

"She was way too nice for you."

"Don't I know it. She brought me to this make-these-sandwiches-for-the-homeless things, and all I wanted to do was eat a sandwich."

"Edward, you didn't."

"I didn't," he says, shifting his eyes around and not looking at me.

"You're despicable."

"I was hungry," he grumbles. He opens the door, and in a polite tone says, "Ladies first."

For a moment I find that terribly sweet until I peek over my shoulder and Edward's checking out my butt. He grins unapologetically and leads the way to the Gas-X. There are no less than fifty million varieties. "Uh, which one should I get?" he asks.

"Like I know. You're the one with the problem."

"Hmm, thanks for the help."

"Oh, like you'll help me choose my product."

"Okay, yeah, yeah." He squats and picks up two packages, poring over the instructions on the back. He tucks his fist beneath his chin and whines, "I have no idea what any of this means."

I join him on the floor and take the boxes from him. "Which do you like better: grape or cherry?"

"Cherry. I love cherries," he says, smirking. Of course.

I shove the package into his belly and stomp away. Unfortunately, he's at my heels, whispering in my ear. "You'll be a good mom someday."

"Yes, I'll be fabulous because choosing meds for gas is so difficult."

"I mean it. You're all cute and motherly."

"Oh, geez. Oh, wait . . ." I stop where I am and turn in a circle, looking for what I need.

"So many options," he says surprised, surveying the pinked-out shelves. "Why so many?"

"I don't know."

"You should know; you're a girl."

"Spot on, babe, now are you seriously going to stand there and watch me choose a tampon?"

"I don't care. I'm confident in my masculinity." He adjusts himself, and I laugh despite my best efforts not to.

"Are you really going to get a business degree?" Well, that was unexpected.

"What? Who told you I wanted—"

"You did a paper on it. Worked with Alice. Emmett's a blabber mouth. And I may have read a copy of the paper."

That thief!

"You guys are like gossiping old ladies."

"Whatever, I just don't see you doing business. You're so good at writing I thought you'd wanna do something with that. I don't know. Maybe an English degree or something literature-ish."

"And do what with it? I'd be working in retail for the rest of my life. There's so much you can do with a business degree. A girl's gotta support herself, you know."

"Or she could marry well . . ."

Oh, no, he didn't!

My eyes snap to his, and he holds up his hands, taking two large steps backward. That's right; he better run.

But, wait. Did he just suggest what I think he suggested? It is too late to have this conversation.

I ignore him and finish making my selections. He's wandered off, and when I come upon him he's staring at two more boxes . . . this time they're condoms.

"What do you think: ribbed or glow in the dark?"

"Neither."

"Really?" His eyes are wide, excited when he turns them on me. "You're on the pill?"

"No, I'm not having sex with you."

Nonplussed, he picks up two more boxes. "Strawberry or pineapple?"

"Kissing in _my_ mom's car or kissing in _your_ mom's car?"

"One of us needs to get a car. But . . . hmm." He pouts, putting the condoms back. "That's not a never, right?" He chews on his lip, looking hopeful.

I decide to be clear with him. It just seems smart given our history. "It's not a never. It's a not right now and a not in the soon-to-be future."

"Okay," he says, snatching a box off the shelf and adding it to his Gas-X. "Better safe than whoops, we made a baby. Though, I wouldn't mind making babies with you."

I stop in the middle of the aisle, cotton swabs and rubbing alcohol surrounding us. This time I can't ignore him. "You want . . ."

"Maybe. Is that weird? I've thought about it."

"You have?" My voice is way too high.

"Yeah." He scratches his stomach with the edge of his box and shifts his weight from one foot to the other. "My mom stayed home until we were in our teens. I want that for myself – for my own family. And you look all cute setting my table and cleaning my things. I kinda want you around for the long hall, I suppose."

"We're juniors in high school." I have no idea what my face is doing. I'm totally stunned.

"And we're also two really cool people that can actually put up with each other's stupidity and not kill each other. That's pretty golden in my book. And I like you. A lot. More than a lot."

"Well, okay," I say, whipping around and hauling ass to the cashier. What did we just commit to? A future together? Me making babies and staying home while Edward works? Oh my gosh, I'm the future Mrs. Cleaver. Only I'd never wear pearls, and Edward would never wear a suit to work. He's too much of a slob to do so.

While I pay for my purchases Edward wraps his arms around my waist, placing a kiss on my head. He nuzzles my neck, his warm breath giving me goose bumps. "I did propose," he whispers. "The first day I came to your house, remember? You turned me down. If you do it again I'll be heartbroken."

For some reason the idea of him on his knee, proposing, doesn't scare the crap out of me. It seems right. Much, much later in my life, right. And the thought of it is a little hot. A lot hot.

While he buys his stuff, I chew on my fingernails and try to wait patiently, but what I really want to do is grab his cute butt in the middle of the store. I grasp his hand when he's done, and he swings it between us as we walk toward the van. He's acting sweet, but I'm wound tight, ready to jump him. This isn't gonna work. Damn hormones. I think.

He hits the key fob, and I slide open the back door.

I grab his belt loops and tug him forward. "You sort of want me in every way, don't you?" I ask, feeling brave and desired.

"You have no idea," he says, leaning in and pressing his lips to mine in a slow-going kiss that builds and builds 'til I'm clinging to his shoulders and pressing myself against him. I want to get in this van. Like five minutes ago.

"No idea," he says again, his strong hands splayed on my lower back. I'm just itching for him to go lower, for him to touch me anywhere he hasn't before. I press up on my tip toes, causing his hands to slide down.

I arch into him and tilt my head back, giving him access to my neck. I love the feel of his mouth there. And the fact that he's trembling slightly. He flexes his hands, his fingers right at the top of my butt. "You can, you know," I say quietly.

With a bedraggled, heavy inhalation, Edward kisses me hard and slides his hands over my ass, kneading it.

Oh, yes . . .

Before I know it, I'm breathing too heavily, my heart's drumming profusely in my chest, and I'm moaning into Edward's mouth outside a strip mall. What is wrong with us? We have no control.

"Edward, we can't . . . I mean—mmph—"

He drags his teeth across my bottom lip, then kisses it softly – something I'm coming to understand is a thing between us. A thing that I love. Like him.

Dammit, I love him. There's no denying it now.

Edward sets his dark eyes on me and gives me another soft kiss. "You want to get in the back?" he asks, no shame whatsoever.

I nod, and he chuckles. "Of course you do. You're the one who opened the door." He turns me by my shoulders and with a slap to my butt adds, "Get in there, harlot."

He opens up his box and pops some Gas-X in his mouth, chewing obnoxiously. We shuffle onto the back bench, and Edward slides a condom beneath my bra strap before settling between my legs. "Happy one week anniversary," he says, smiling.

Who said romance is dead?

I pull the condom from my bra and lift my hips (and Edward in the process as he's on top of me) so I can put it in my back pocket. Edward moans purposefully loud like a porn star then laughs, saying, "So . . . backseat of my mom's car it is."

It's there that we spend the rest our night – lips locked and limbs tangled together.

When he brings me home, we can't seem to say goodbye. It's prom night all over again. Only this time I'm the one that should leave.

"I need to . . ."

"Mmm hmm," he says, his mouth smoothing kisses over the tops of my breasts.

"Uh huh," I say, tugging his hair and wishing we were still in the backseat of this dumb van.

He kisses up my throat and softly presses his lips to mine. He's comfy-warm from our make-out, and his lips are so soft against mine. They move slowly over my own, pulling this feeling of overwhelming desire from deep within me. I really want him. Like _really_.

But I'm in my driveway in his mother's van, and we're only seventeen. We've got to slow this down; we're not ready for this. But we are ready for something.

"Edward," I say against his lips, and he pulls back, though he's close enough that if he puckered up again, I could kiss him without moving. "I think I'm . . ."

"What, baby?" he asks as he smoothes his hands down my back, his eyes roving my face.

"I think . . . I _am_ in love with you."

His eyes snap to meet mine, and panic surges through me. Is this going to scare him off? I hope not as he was essentially telling me he wants me to be his baby-making machine someday. But boys are dumb, and they make no sense. I never know what Edward will say or do, but I had to take the chance anyway.

"I," he starts but stops to kiss me again. A huge smile spreads across his face, his eyes alight with happiness. "I know."

"Nice, real nice." I push his chest away, but he snatches my wrists in a tight grip and won't let me move.

"I'm just playing with you. I love playing with you. I love doing everything with you. But, look, I . . . I'm not the best at . . . and it's been a week, and you already know how I feel. Just—it might take me a while to say the words, okay?"

I can't respond to that verbally. I glare, but I shouldn't. He's being honest and not pulling away. That's good.

"I don't mean to hurt your feelings. The words will come when they come. Okay, baby?"

"Okay," I say, kissing him one last time before saying goodnight and heading inside.

**-TWYW-**

Edward and I don't see each other on Sunday, which is fine. I need some time to sort through my feelings and put some finishing touches on my stuff for Monday morning.

As I shake glitter over a shirt, Alice calls, and I tell her all about my crazy night. She informs me that I shouldn't worry about his non-declaration, and that it's good that he didn't just say it to say it. I agree and am left feeling a lot better about it all. Alice is such a good friend.

After dinner Edward calls the land line, being sure to schmooze my dad a bit before asking to talk to me. Once we're on the phone, though, I have him call my cell. I would not want my mom listening in on our conversation, which is totally something she would do. I think.

"Hi," I say, answering my cell straightway.

"Hey, I miss you."

"I miss you too."

"Should we be missing each other? We saw each other all week and Saturday. It's only been a day."

"A day can be a long time when you like someone so much."

"Yeah, I guess."

"I want to get to know you better," I blurt. I've been thinking about that all weekend – how we need to really get to know each other. "I really want this to work."

"Me too, bubbaloo. What do you want to know?" His voice is chipper, excited.

"Everything. Like you want to be an architect. Tell me about that."

"I want to build my own house someday. I have this cool idea of a pond with little fish right in the foyer and a bridge—"

"Um, say what? That's weird," I say truthfully.

"It's not weird; it's awesome."

"If I'm going to make your babies and all, we cannot live in a house where they can drown next to the front door."

"They won't drown," he protests.

"And you know this because . . ."

"Because they'll have the best mom around."

"Uh huh. And by the way, women can work and be moms at the same time. I'm not going to be some 1950's housewife. And I like the idea of building a dream home, but not so much with the planning of my kids' funerals due to drowning," I say sternly.

"But I thought you loved me," he says, mock sadness in his tone.

"Yes, I do, and I'm already telling you off. I'm sorry. Let's talk about your unrealistic dreams later, okay?"

"Okay. Good. And I would never expect that of you. The 1950's housewife thing. Though you in heels and some pearls would be hot."

"Oh goodness. Anyway . . ."

We go on for an hour rambling about our desires and aspirations. Despite his knack for lazing about, he really is ambitious. That bodes well for my future . . . if we stay together.

It's so crazy that we're even thinking about this; it just feels right. Even so, it doesn't mean I want to talk about it, so I change the subject.

"You're nails are getting long," I say.

"I just cut them last week," he complains.

I laugh, futilely covering my mouth as my giggle come through anyway.

"Edward, you are the laziest person I know. You have to cut them every week."

"What? That's crazy talk. No one cuts their nails every week."

"Um, yes, they do."

"Who?" he asks, irritated but silly at the same time.

"Uh, everyone who's not a woman," I say, pointing out the obvious.

"That's just stupid."

"Cut your damn nails already."

"All right. Geesh! You're so bossy. I like it!" He's moving around his house, opening and closing doors, fiddling with things. And then I hear it, the sound of his nails getting clipped.

"You're doing it now?"

"Well, I sure as hell am not going to be motivated when I get off the phone now, am I?"

"What does that even mean?"

"I don't know. Just go with it. Better yet, say," and then his voices changes into a higher pitch, "_That's the best idea ever, Edward. And my what a big—_"

"Okay, I get it. Thank you for cutting your nails. I appreciate it."

"Aw, I appreciate you."

"That is the girliest thing you've ever said."

He laughs then curses under his breath. "I don't know how people do this every week. It hurts."

"It doesn't hurt."

"It does so."

"You're such a big baby."

"And you're my baby." He says the words quietly, and I'm speechless. How does he do that to me? "Baby?"

"What?"

"You still there?"

"Yeah, I just . . . um, nothing."

"I'm too swoony for you?" The distinct sounds of clipping float through the line and bring me back to my senses.

"Get over yourself," I say, trying to save face, because, yeah, he was swoony.

"Never."

"It's such a good thing I love you."

"No kidding. I'd hate to see how you treated me if you didn't," Edward deadpans.

There's a moment of silence followed by a snort. He laughs at his own brilliant joke, a wheezing sound, and I'm so affected by him I join him. We cackle like fools, and I realize how much I love the ease at which we go from serious conversation to griping and then to sweet sentiments. It's just awesome.

"So I'd love to chat forever, but I've got some crap to do before bed," I say, and he grumbles on the line.

"All right, put your crap before your boyfriend. I see how it is."

"It's good to know from the get-go, right?"

"I guess." He sounds dejected.

"Night, Edward. I love you."

"Night, Bella." He hangs up before saying anything else, and I try not to let it bother me that he didn't reciprocate. It shouldn't. Our relationship is so young. I've got to give it time and be patient. I will.

At night before I go to bed, Edward sends me a series of texts that keep me up later than I planned – laughing.

_You know I do, right?_

_My penis will say it._

_My hands will say it._

_My heart will say it._

_But my mouth is a dumbass._

_Will it help you to know how much more I like you than any other girl?_

_I left my stinky shoes in Angela's locker once to see what she'd do. I thought she'd at least ask me nicely not to leave them there. She didn't._

_So I left them there over the weekend. _

_Whoops._

_All Saturday and Sunday I fantasized about you hitting me for doing such a disgusting thing. You look so hot when you're mad. I may just get you riled up because of it. _

_Just maybe._

_You get this little pout, and your cheeks get pink, and then I just want to kiss the hell out of you. _

_Dammit, now I need to take a shower._

A half hour passes, and I'm almost asleep when my phone chimes one last time.

_Night, baby._

I can't wait to see him tomorrow.

**-TWYW-**

I purposefully avoid Edward for his first two classes. I want him to be excited to see me, so I've had Emmett and Jasper re-routing him all morning so we don't bump into each other.

"Are you set?" Alice asks, her hand on the bathroom door ready to push it open.

"Yeah." I nod, though I feel a little nervous.

"You look so great."

We head out together, side by side, and she squeals as we walk toward the double doors of the main hall where Edward's locker is. His crazy hair stands out immediately. It looks as though he's been pulling at it. I hope it's because he's a wreck, missing me. I know I've missed him.

He stands at his locker unloading his backpack, and a surge of energy pushes through me. I'm ready for anything he throws my way.

My hips sway more than usual due to the pencil skirt I wear. It's all for effect . . . and for Edward. As I walk I unbutton my black cardigan, dropping it to the floor, revealing my tight tank top adorned with my feelings for Edward.

There's a loud wolf whistle, and a few guys stop and stare. One senior claps followed by another which gets Edward's attention. When our eyes meet, I don't stop. I keep walking as he takes me in from head to toe.

"Hi," I mouth, fiddling with my new glasses.

A huge, toothy, lopsided grin takes residence on Edward's face, and he opens his mouth as though he's about to say something, but nothing comes out.

Good. I want him silent.

I approach him confidently and grab his face, smacking my lips to his cheeks first, making sure my red lipstick marks him. I push him backward, leaving my hands against his chest, and he groans. His head hits the locker when I kiss him hard, not caring who watches or what they're seeing.

Many of them have probably already seen us in a lip-lock with the way pictures at a weekend party spread around here, anyway.

I run my hands down his torso, feeling his muscles bunch up beneath the fabric of his shirt. I pull from the bottom and slide it over his head.

"Hell, yes!" he shouts, and more onlookers start catcalling. I don't mind. I just hope no one snitches and we don't get in trouble for indecent exposure or something. And I'm really liking the whole Edward without a shirt thing. It works!

"Black," I order, and Alice hands me a black Sharpie like I'm a surgeon – a surgeon of love. She stands by, holding my cardigan, a huge smile on her face. She looks as spazzed as my mom did this morning while I was getting ready.

On Edward's bare chest I write the letter _I_, draw a large heart next to it, and below it – on his abdomen – write my name in capital letters followed by an exclamation point. It mirrors my tank top, only mine's much more girly and decorative and boasts Edward's name instead.

"Red," I say, and Alice trades me markers. I fill in the heart and take a step back, admiring my artwork. It looks pretty good, but not as good as the boy wearing it. He's radiant smiles and half-naked hotness and boy and all mine. He smells nice today too.

"What's all this?" he asks, tugging at the hem of my tank and staring at my boobs.

"Oh, you know, just some paste and glitter."

"I love it. You made it?"

"Yes, I made it. And I'm glad you like it because I made enough to wear one every day this week."

He drops his head, grinning at the floor. When he pops it back up a shy smile's in place. "I heart you too," he says quietly.

He _does_ love me. I know it, and I want to celebrate it. Celebrate us.

"I love you. I love that you don't care what anyone thinks. I love that you love to make a spectacle of yourself. I love that you are so stinkin' adorable and funny that I can never stay mad at you. I love that you're such a forward thinker even though it's confusing because you're lazy too. And . . . I just wanted to show you just how much I . . ."

"I know. Consider me shown. Consider everyone shown." He laughs and kisses me swiftly – familiar, comfortable, loving. "Shall we go to French, ma petite amie?" he offers me his arm like a gentleman. I smile and lace mine with his. It's then he adds, "You look so freaking hot, by the way. Your glasses are giving me a hard on."

I really do love him – crass boy and all.

On our way to the language building, we run into Mike. My grip on Edward's arm tightens, but I'm ready for this. I expected it – whatever _it_ may be.

"That's a bit much, don't you think?" Mike asks lightly, pointing to my shirt and Edward's bare chest.

"Nothing's a bit much when it comes to Edward." I turn to gaze at Edward, and he's all smiles. I'm all smiles on the inside.

"Yeah, I got an email this weekend to prove it," Mike says. His friendly expression makes me wonder what he's thinking. Is he upset, or does he not care at all? I guess it doesn't matter at this point, though, so I choose not to worry about it. I choose to be happy for me and move on. In fact, I have moved on. The half-naked man attached to my hip is proof.

I change the subject quickly just in case he is mad or upset, or whatever. I don't want this to get ugly. "Hey, you said you were going to be at Garrett's. What happened?"

"Yeah, man, we were hoping to see you there. T-H-E-R-E." Edward doesn't even look ashamed of making fun of Mike. Goodness.

Mike shakes his head at Edward, looking confused. "Um, I had a date with Lauren. It went a little . . . er, we decided not to go."

"I'm glad you're having a good time with Lauren."

"Y-O-U apostrophe R-E," Edward says, huge smug grin. He's relentless.

"Whatever. Well, have fun, I guess," he says in a resigned tone as though he couldn't care less.

"We will," I say.

He rubs his arm and smiles tightly. I wonder what's going on in his head? He's always so reserved. How did I ever put up with that? Mike leaves us, heading toward his next class.

Well, that was uneventful.

Edward looks me over but doesn't say anything.

We walk silently to French, and there's an awkward tension between us. It's making my stomach twist and turn, so I break it. "He was kind of rude, but . . . well, you can't please everyone," I say, and Edward shoves me against the wall outside our French class, kissing me soundly.

A male teacher barks, "Mister Cullen, we wear clothes at school! And the both of you, cut that out!"

We giggle as Edward hurriedly puts his shirt on. I help him unnecessarily and smooth the fabric over his chest and stomach. "Miss Swan, cut that out," Edward mocks the teacher and slaps my hands away. "But meet me in the library later."

**-TWYW-**

Alice is sitting next to Jasper, and their eyes are on us as we walk into class hand-in-hand.

Edward sits first then pats my seat like I don't know where to sit. "Right here, sweet cheeks."

He's so ridiculous, but I don't care because I'm a lucky girl. One privileged, who gets every nickname there is . . . including baby. "Thanks," I say.

His grin is wide, and his auburn hair is wild from my incessant grabbing at it this morning. I want to grab it again. I want to kiss him again and never stop. But I can't. Not now anyway. So with soft-from-all-the-kissing lips and a warm body, I sit beside Edward.

I stare as he gets out his notebook, pencil, and his bag of cookies. He rips the bag in half once it's on top of his stuff. The chocolate stains his fresh paper immediately. He pulls off a piece, the melted sweetness draping over his fingers. He places it whole in his mouth, chewing with his eyes closed, looking like a man-child enjoying the simple things life has to offer and appreciating every second of it.

Geez, I love that about him.

He opens his eyes and swivels his head to me, thrusting his thumb out. "You want?" he asks, eyebrows raised.

I nod and lean toward him, opening my mouth. He slips his thumb inside, and I wrap my lips around it, sucking the chocolate from his finger.

His eyes narrow, and I kiss his thumb once I've let it go. I'm fairly certain by the look on his face if we weren't in the middle of French class I'd be beneath him with his tongue in my mouth. That sounds so nice right about now. How many hours do we have left of school?

"Do you want to come over today?" I ask, and he nods his acceptance with his mouth agape.

A throat clears, and Edward and I snap our heads to the front of the room where Ms. Benson stands in front of the chalkboard, hands on her hips.

"Mister Cullen, Miss Swan, do you have something to share with us?"

I shake my head, but Edward blurts, "I heart Bella."

Oh, yeah, he totally _does_ love me.

The class erupts into guffaws, and she smiles, seemingly unable to stay straight-faced. "Based on Miss Swan's shirt, I'd say the feeling's mutual, Mister Cullen."

"It is," I say and pull out my things for class.

"Bonne," Ms. Benson says, turning to face the board, pointing at what's written there. "Repetez après moi . . ."

I write a few notes but am so distracted as Edward's still eating his cookies. He's also gaping at my legs.

"What?" I say quietly, trying to stay out of trouble.

"You have nice legs; I plan to stare at them all through class," he whispers.

I cross them, giving him a good view. "Someone once told me it's a free country, so you can do whatever you want."

I return my focus to my notebook, sorting through papers when I come across it . . . my list.

I fold it, then hand it to Edward covertly. He opens it up, and as soon as he starts reading his mouth pops open. He writes something on a scrap of paper and hands it to me.

It's a massive scribble followed by loads of exclamation points.

I cover my mouth, stifling my giggle. He slips me another note.

_Your list is so much better than mine! We're ditching our next class, your glasses are staying on, and we're getting started on number four!_

And we do – we ditch and get started on number four – only we don't stop there. We work in time for number twelve and twenty seven, leaving us both smiling goons the rest of the school day. It's a good thing summer's just around the corner because we've got a lot to do . . . together.

**A/N:** This story is dedicated to J. Without him dirtyflirtward would never have been so insane. Sometimes I miss him, but I'm glad I dodged that bullet. I'm sure Bella will have better luck with Dirtyflirtward than I ever did with J.

So much of this story was inspired by real life events. Care to guess what really happened? What he was really like? I'd love to see if you can guess correctly.

Hey! Last week Fig Newton was spotlighted on Twific Trivia. The question was: What nickname does Edward call Mike Newton? Yay, so fun! There were lots of hilarious guesses too.

Wime09 requested a butt grab, and she got one. Never underestimate the power of suggestion.

Every so often, I get a review that sticks with me and makes me giggle for days. Last week I had one such review. TheMasochisticLion wrote, "My wife told me the other night I Had to read this. I can see why now, This is HYSTERICAL!"

OMG! A boy likes Dirtyflirtward and his Bella. Squee! This made me feel all squiggly inside for two reasons: 1. a BOY is reading my story. Woot! And 2. he's a bit swoony himself. Who doesn't love a boy who reads? Let's all take a moment to be jealous of his lucky wife.

I started out this witfit trying to follow the rules: one prompt, one post a day. Well, that worked for 13 days, and then the plot took over, and the chapters got longer, and I couldn't keep up. Plus, I had to get myself some prereaders and start editing because I'm stupid like that. Regardless, I had so much fun! I'm so glad I tried it, and I think it was a whopping success for everyone involved. Don't you? Dirtyward says, "Nod your head, and say 'yes, dear.'"

And you do because you're trained well. ;)

In all seriousness, thanks to my music, pic and prereading peeps. You know who you are! Cejsmom, _ss77_, and modernsafari1 are all amazing and helped to shape this story. And you are amazing too! Thanks for reading, reviewing, tweeting, pimping, and sharing this story with your friends. I'm so giddy that you enjoyed it in all its stupidity.

Not sure what or when I'll post another story. You can always find me on my blog reviewing stories and on twitter making fun of my husband.

Bye, baby.


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